A few weeks ago, one of the rescue groups I photograph for texted me: “Carol! We have another puppers…PALEEEEEEEEZ…”

And of course, there was a photo.

I looked at the scared little pup behind bars.

“Honey, can we keep this little one for a week or so,” I asked my husband, out of courtesy.

The next day, a skinny puppy greeted me at my front door when the doorbell rang. Tig marched in to the house, dancing around and stumbling in that awkward puppy way. We marveled at her cement and peat moss colors, her blue-green eyes, her rat tail with the dark grey tip.

She had been dropped off at the shelter a day before because she had diarrhea. Maybe she’d only been gone from her mother and siblings a week? a month? No one will ever know. That part of her story will be her secret. But she didn’t seem to have eaten a good meal in a while. We picked her up–all of 4 or 5 pounds maybe. A sack of squirming bones. We put down food immediately. And she inhaled it.

The rescuers left a bit later–and Tig stared at us with a “Now what?” look. We took her out for a tinkle. “Good puppy!” we over-the-top exclaimed and brought her back in. Five minutes later, there was a puddle in the kitchen and a pile in the living room. Teaching a puppy to do business outside is never easy. It takes time and there will be accidents. We were determined and she looked capable, so no worries. We’d work with her for the next 10 days.

And what a 10 days…everything was all about baby Tig. Feeding her little meals 4 times a day to fatten her up. Cooking rice to mix into her food and hopefully put a stop to the diarrhea. Taking her out every 2 hours during the day, and every 3-4 hours overnight. Waking her up to “Good morning Puppy!” and watching her do her yoga stretches before sashaying out of the crate like a princess.

We laughed at her puppy-ness. At the funny way she ran and lost control on the corners. At the way she couldn’t figure out things like the doorbell, dogs barking on TV, or where we went when we stepped out of the chase and stood between furniture. We laughed when she chased us around-and-around the house, growling like a little lawnmower, and suddenly stopped and dropped on her bed for a nap. She couldn’t do stairs–up or down. We carried her. She figured out “up” later in the week, but down was still a problem for her after 10 days.

Tig was a fiesty, sassy little being. We tried avoiding her needle teeth and the tiny claws. She chewed on table legs, chair legs, people legs, shoes, toes, fingers, beds, the couch. We got her another chew toy. She added that to the repertoire–without dropping those other favorite chews. She tugged on the back of my pants. Hearing “No!” only made her bark at us and have conniptions of nipping and barking with a ridiculous high-pitched voice that only made us laugh harder. This dog was going to be a handful and a half. Timeouts happened when we picked her up. Holding her calmed her down and turned her back into sweet baby TIg again. I didn’t mind holding her–it gave me an excuse to sniff that puppy smell.

For 10 days, we played, and cleaned up accidents, and fed and fed and fed little Tig. We discovered she loved to lay in the sunshine wherever it fell on the floor or sidewalk. She liked tug-of-war, she preferred to chase versus being chased, she would sit-stay-come for a treat–but only in the kitchen, and trying to coax her down the stairs usually just made her mad. She liked to bite at a stalk of lavender that hung over the sidewalk. Falling leaves had to be chased down and chewed up. She was happy, confident, and crazy and sweet–all at once. Her personality was becoming more and more clear. I felt sad that whoever was adopting her wouldn’t get to see this part of her babyhood.

Tig left our house to go on a cross-country transport to her East Coast fosters in preparation for adoption. She will be adopted soon–if not already. I feel lucky to have spent a precious week of puppy-dom with this little sass. It wore me out, wore me down, and ran us out of paper towels. It convinced us that we may be past our puppy-raising prime. And I just want to tell the adopters…I have Tig’s baby pictures and videos for you when you’re ready. I hope you bring each other lots of joy.

One More Dog Rescue saved Tig, and they save many more puppy dogs every week. You can read more about the rescuers here on my project page.

Please. Adopt, don’t shop. Foster. Volunteer. Donate. And hug a pup. Even if he/she is not yours.  🙂