Even though it was a beautiful sunny day and I was productive in the garden this morning, I had to do something I have never done in my life — surrender the puppy I found a week ago.
We tried all week to get him settled. Even when he was turned away from the Humane Society, we thought we could be short-term fosterers for them. But then his unpredictable biting started, and when my daughter met with the Humane Society on Friday, they told us they would not allow us to foster him.
If it wasn’t for this, “Beans” — because he was found in the gardens and laid down in the shade of the pole beans — might have stayed. If he was naughty, we called him “Mr. Beans.” We never truly settled on the name until today, when we turned him in. All week, we simply called him “Puppy.”
He was about 6–7 months old, jumpy for attention, and constantly getting into things — and that was on us, because our house was not puppy-proof. But he made me clean and put things in order all week. Puppy was affectionate, loved being cuddled and stroked, learned to enjoy walks, and was a good ball fetcher who actually dropped the ball at your feet. He was potty trained, kennel trained, and could sit on command when he wasn’t too excited.
It really came down to his food-resourcing aggression. We had to adjust our lifestyle — putting him in the kennel when we ate or even when preparing his dinner. It was strange: he would take treats from our fingers as gently as could be, but if he found food on the counter and we tried to move him away, that’s when he would bite or nip. The last straw was when my daughter was bitten again, and this time he drew blood.
On Friday, I contacted NE Ohio Labrador Rescue, the organization we briefly fostered for when Mocha was going to them. My hope was that if they couldn’t take him, maybe they had connections to other rescues that would. I gave them his case number and his new name, Jellybean — even though we still said Beans.
I don’t know if I can look to see what happens to him. We had no choice but to use this shelter — a kill shelter — and it breaks my heart that the Humane Society didn’t take him. This was not how I wanted it to end.
Puppy — Beans — you wandered into my life in my happy place, the gardens. I hope you find a forever home where you can help someone with their gardens too, even if it’s just by lying in the shade of their pole beans.