Hello, I have the privilege of sharing my story about what we call a ‘failed foster’! Now this isn’t as sad as it sounds, it’s quite the opposite in fact. It is when, in the course of fostering and helping so many wonderful dogs find their forever sofas, that you get one who is just so special, so suited to you that you simply can’t bear to let them leave, ever! I would say I was about 6 foster dogs into my fostering adventure when it happened to me. I came close with a similar dog, Medo but in the end he went to a home so nice I wished they had adopted me as well! Then along came Oli. It was the name he had been given in the kennels so he had some kind of identity and I couldn’t see him as anything else so it stuck, although I have since added the extra names of Oliver Kenneth Wilbert Wolfson to him.
Oli came from Bosnia where he was in a kill shelter. In some areas if stray dogs aren’t claimed within 7 days they are put to sleep. The less scrupulous shelters do this as they are incentivised by the government or local authority to do so. So Oli was on death row.
How he came to be there I don’t know -my guess is that, as a guarding breed he couldn’t cut the mustard and was simply abandoned. It’s a tragic common story for these dogs. His breed is supposed to protect flocks of sheep against bears and wolves….. whilst our noble warrior Oli once ran off when a light came on outside and recently was in counselling as he wouldn’t go outside due to a Hedgehog appearing in the garden – my hero!
His breed is a Sarplaniac or Balkan Shepherd, or Floofballus Gigantica.
So, Oli was meant to be a foster, to stay till he had a permanent home. He got out of the transport he was in and I thought WOW! I think at this point I knew I’d be keeping him , it really was love at first sight. He calmly allowed me to give him a fuss then I introduced him to the other 3 members of my pack and after a lot of sniffing, everyone was happy with everyone else. The other dogs watched as Oli calmly gave me the benefit of his experience in the garden-landscaping trade by digging a hole, then rolling around on the sand I had spent the morning carefully levelling in preparation for artificial turf laying.
He fitted straight in, it was that simple, some fosters do. They have been through so much already that not a lot fazes them anymore and they just accept where they are and are grateful for some food, a safe space to sleep and importantly some kindness. They will repay this in absolute bucketloads the longer you have them.
Anyway, I did my usual new dog routine - I fed him and took as many pics as I could to pass onto the rescue so that he could be advertised quickly and then we settled into our normal routines.
Very quickly these fosters adapt and within days it can feel like they have been there forever. Oli was no exception and the weeks went by with no one seemingly interested in him. Out on walks people would stop me and ask what breed he was, “isn’t he gorgeous, wow he’s big” etc. but no suitable homes came forward.
All this time I was just getting on with things and Oli was at my side and I began to ponder the most dangerous phrase in fostering…what if? What if I kept him? I started to do Dog maths, this is where you work out vet expenses, food costs, bedding costs then completely ignore them if it appears too expensive.
So I contacted the rescue and asked what I could do to pay for him and they cunningly said because of the fostering I had done that I could keep him on the promise that I made a donation of what I could afford. Deadly! As it turned out, a friend kindly sent me some money for the care of all the dogs and I just forwarded it all to the rescue. That was it! Oli was mine and not a day goes by I don’t appreciate him - well apart from the paint-peeling flatulence he is capable of at times!
I still foster. Several have come and gone since Oli arrived and I have been tempted on most of them just to keep. But thanks to Oli, they have gone on to homes that they could only dream of in their former lives and are loving and loved and it makes me feel great to know that.
Failed fostering; you can’t save them all, but you can save one and that’s the special one.
