Darcy Bustles

Darcy, the rescue poodle/shih tzu cross, went back to Canterbury Dogs Trust yesterday so she could be checked out by the vet before her adoption.  I would like to thank Ruth and the team at Canterbury Dogs Trust for letting me look after Darcy and for having provided more care and support to me as a fosterer for 4 days than the rescue centre I got Gordon from provided in the months that I fostered him.  Ruth made sure I had out of hours contact numbers, a form authorising a vet to treat Darcy in an emergency, guidance, background on the dog, her bed, leads, harness, food, toys, everything a small dog and I could need for a long weekend visit. 

I like to think she was called Darcy because she bustles everywhere.  I am not generally a big fan of small dogs - a spaniel or beagle are about the minimum of what I would normally consider to be an acceptable size, but Darcy was so sweet I am glad I made an exception.  When I first met her, she was a little shy with me but soon came round.  By the time we reached our first stop, she was attached to me - much of the time physically attached, sitting on my feet even when I went to the loo (always awkward).  I was quite fond of her, despite her vomiting all over the car and need to watch everything I did, everything.  

Darcy in the car - towels and dust sheet all vomit ready

Whether I sat in the garden or the house, she sat beside me.  I put a large old cushion on the sofa so she could sit on that.  When my mum came round, she asked me why I had such an old, tatty cushion and Darcy clearly agreed with mum.  She would sit on the cushion politely for 23 seconds, before moving to either a new cushion or my lap.  

Studiously avoiding 'her' cushion

I am not keen on dogs being in bedrooms.  Darcy, the bustling, mountain-goat dog, was not keen on dogs not being in bedrooms.  Darcy won.  I was determined she would sleep in her own bed though, not in mine,  Eventually she aquiesced.  At 6.30 a.m. on Sunday, let sleeping dogs lie went out of the window and she turned into a frenzied alarm clock, bouncing onto the bed and bounding around until I got up.  The next night I woke in the night to find her at the foot of my bed, so Darcy won again.   On her last morning she was determined I was going to make a fuss of her for as long as possible before I was allowed out of the bed, as if she knew it was her last day with me.

Taking her for a walk was very different to walking a blind, 22kg shar pei.  Gordon would lunge for the park, with me having to make sure he didn't crash into anything or anyone on the way there.  Darcy danced along beside me, almost underfoot, checking behind us constantly.  If she saw a dog in the distance, she would virtually walk backwards.  If she saw a person, she danced and jittered about so much that I felt that I had to let them pass us - with Darcy somewhat puzzled when they ignored her.  She would look at them in amazement and then look up at me for reassurance, batting her unbelievably long eyelashes, until I made a fuss of her - so we could walk on. 

I expected such a tiny dog to be worn out by a short walk, but we would walk for over an hour and she would still be dancing around.  I took her to the tennis courts, where we could play fetch in an enclosed environment.  We would play until she got distracted by peering through the fence at other dogs and I was doing far more of the fetching than she was.  Her energy was amazing and she looked so cute bounding towards me with the ball, her little ears flapping away.  

When I took her back to The Dogs Trust, I didn't think I would be bothered, as I knew she was going to a lovely new home and small dogs are, as I keep on saying, not my thing.  However I wanted more time to say goodbye to her and it felt strange and a bit lonely to get home to an empty house, and unusually quiet to wake up this morning without the bouncing alarm jolting me into the day.  After only a few days, sweet little Darcy had made her mark on me.  She had also left her mark, having wiped her grubby muzzle after every meal on my clothes, the furniture or the carpets.  

I went from being a stranger to being the person she depended upon for everything in about 30 minutes.  I am sure she will be the same with her new family.  Darcy is so sweet and affectionate, she cannot have been badly treated, but even so in the past few weeks she has been in long-term foster (she was weaning her puppies), short-term foster, kennels and then a permanent home and accepted it all without any signs of distress.  It is a credit to The Dogs Trust that an abandoned dog and her puppies have all found such loving homes and are so well prepared for foster and permanent care.  

I had worried that Darcy would struggle to relax in a strange environment

I work full time and have a long commute, so cannot have a dog of my own anymore.  But when I have time off, I will let the Dogs Trust know in case of any further short-term fostering is available.  To anyone thinking of getting a dog, I would advocate fostering first, to find out if a dog really does fit in with your life.  I also highly recommend a rescue dog - there are too many beautiful dogs looking for homes for anyone to be ordering or buying designer puppies.  I know from painful experience that not all rescue centres put dogs first, so it is worth doing some research around the rescue shelter you get the dog from.  The Dogs Trust have several in the UK, and if they are all as good as Canterbury, you could do a lot worse than get a dog from them. (link to The Dogs Trust here).

Update 11 September 2015 - Darcy's new owners returned her in August!  She was such a sweet dog and I could not believe they could just give her back.  Because of work, I just couldn't take her again, but wished I could have, and probably would have kept her.  Luckily for Darcy, the amazing Dogs Trust found her a new foster family last week - who lasted all of a day before being so in love with her they adopted her permanently.