By Stacey Dexter
Food groups have a amusing way of crossing over as names for our pets. I’ve heard of—and met—Waffles, Hammy, Peanut, Apple, Pancakes, and Taco. Potato is my personal favorite.
Some are fitting. Some are weird. Some are hilarious, and some are just meant to be.
Food names were the last thing on my mind when I decided to become a foster mom. I had not fostered before and felt conflicted: would the dog attach to me and then suffer emotional distress when adopted?
I had been thinking about it forever, so in January I filled out an application for the Verde Valley Humane Society in Cottonwood, Arizona. Within a few days, I agreed to meet Christine, head of the behavior team, to talk about options and needs.
After hearing the bad news that I wouldn’t be fostering any puppies (sorry!), I asked who needed the most help. She paused only a moment before saying, “Salsa.”
Salsa had been rescued with her puppies near the Verde River in Cornville. After they were all brought to VVHS, the puppies were kept until they were old enough to be adopted. Everyone found good homes except Mama Salsa.
She was overlooked multiple times for an entire year—not because of aggression or behavioral issues, and not even for her unknown breed (pointer/hound mix?).
Her shyness with humans made potential adopters… well, shy away from her.
Salsa really just needed a chance. After hearing her story, I really wanted to help, so Christine brought Salsa out to meet me.
She’s a beautiful medium-sized dog, about three years old, all white with black patches over each eye, and her ears spotted with black dots.
I didn’t interact with her initially, even though my first instinct was to reach out and pat her head. Argh!
We walked with her for a bit. That went well, so I fetched my dog, Woody (also a VVHS rescue), from my Jeep to see how they would coexist together. After walking companionably for twenty minutes or so, we decided that Salsa would come home with us.
Deep breath. What were we in for?
It was obvious that riding in a vehicle didn’t come naturally for her. After attempting to get her to jump in, I boosted her 28-pound bottom into the front seat and attached her to a tether. Our trip to the house was only a five- to ten-minute drive, and Salsa’s eyes were wide with fear and wonder.
She jumps into the car beautifully now and sits calmly while we drive, though using the windshield wipers… What?!?. She’s used to those now, too.
At the house, we went directly into the backyard. She did the usual thing most rescue dogs do: darted around in every direction, stopped only to pee, and then alternated between coming to me and running away. I expected this behavior and just let her decompress and familiarize herself with her new surroundings.
I was as nonchalant as possible when we went inside and talked calmly and softly, so as to not overwhelm her. I showed her the water bowl and pulled out a few treats. She began to settle, taking cues from Woody, and plopped into a dog bed.
As I sat down to watch the news, Salsa lay across my lap, no longer fearful of me. As soon as the anchor came on, Salsa was surprised at a human talking through this contraption. First she growled, then she howled!
She was genuinely taken aback, so I don’t think Salsa has lived in a house before, given her lack of exposure to something that most humans have in their home.
Again, acting like this were just another day, I went out to the yard to hang something on my clothesline. I was back in under a minute, and when I entered the house, there stood Salsa… on my kitchen counter. Ummm, no.
I quietly laughed and took a picture before lifting her down and telling her no.
I knew it was best to clear the counter of any food for a short time, as Salsa quickly learned that this was a definite no-no. Her many days of fending for herself had conditioned her to grab any food she could. She just needed some training and consistency, and doesn’t do this anymore.
Fostering Salsa has been a rewarding and fun experience. She makes me laugh every day. We will keep her with us until the right person(s) comes along.
She isn’t afraid of other dogs, and exposing her to our friends is helping her to gain confidence in trusting humans. What we learn about her offers valuable information that we’ll pass along to Salsa’s potential adopters, which will give her a better chance of finding her furever home.
Please consider fostering a dog or cat? It frees up much-needed real estate in the shelter, gives the animals a way to feel wanted and loved, AND your observations could help them become more adoptable.
A little side of Salsa has been so enjoyable—you should try it and see for yourself!
