seisway.com

Author: SEISWAY

  • Finding Joy in Unexpected Places

    There are days when I’m not feeling my greatest. Sometimes I’m just having an off day, and other times I have things on my mind that make it difficult to appreciate what’s happening around me. 

    Then there’s Spice. 

    That girl is happy about 90% of the time. Her tail is constantly wagging, and when she gets really excited, her entire hips move from side to side with an almost exaggerated enthusiasm. She has this enormous smile that makes it difficult not to smile back. Sometimes I look at her and wonder how a dog who came from such a difficult situation can carry so much joy. 

    From what I was told, Spice’s previous owner passed away, and she wasn’t well cared for by the owner’s family. When she was rescued, she had a flea infestation that required treatment, along with other care needs that had to be addressed. I don’t know everything she experienced before coming into my home, and I can’t say for certain how those experiences affected her. What I can share is the dog I met, the changes I’ve witnessed, and the joy she brings into my life today. 

    The Spice I First Met

    I still remember the day Spice arrived. When the rescue representative brought her to me, we decided to take a short walk down the block to begin building some trust. Spice wasn’t particularly happy about having me close to her. She growled as the representative handed her over, and I could tell she was keeping a close eye on me. 

    That first walk gave me an early glimpse of some of the challenges we would face together. Spice was resistant in the beginning. During our walks, Spice sometimes reacted aggressively toward people and other dogs. She seemed particularly suspicious of strangers, almost as though everyone was a potential threat. 

    There were also challenges inside the home. Spice wasn’t comfortable with anyone approaching her crate and would growl when someone came too close. She also guarded things she appeared to consider hers, especially around feeding time. Even after finishing her food, she would sometimes lie down in front of her empty bowl with one front paw resting on it, almost as though she was saying, “Mine!” 

    I knew I had work ahead of me, but I also knew that what I was seeing wasn’t necessarily the whole picture of who Spice was. 

    My goal was to help her become comfortable in my home, learn the household expectations, and eventually find a permanent family. I told the rescue that I didn’t believe Spice would be a good fit for a first-time dog owner. Based on what I’d experienced, I felt she needed someone confident in providing consistent guidance, setting boundaries, and working through challenging situations without becoming intimidated. 

    Patches’ Stamp of Approval

    I wasn’t always a fan of small dogs, but Patches certainly changed my perspective. She was nine years old when her previous owner surrendered her, and she came into my home with challenges of her own. She could be quite a little terror during our walks, but over time, we learned from one another. 

    Today, at sixteen years old, Patches continues to amaze me. 

    Patches has shown me over the years that when she feels safe around a foster, she’ll sometimes rest beside or lean against them. I’ve come to recognize this as her stamp of approval. I’ve witnessed it with several fosters, and it’s something I never rush or expect from her. It happens when she’s ready, and I see it as her way of telling me she feels safe. 

    With Spice, their relationship had its challenges. 

    The rescue had informed me that Spice didn’t like small dogs, and I witnessed some of that discomfort when Patches approached her, particularly around feeding time. There were moments when Spice would growl or give Patches an intense stare. I sometimes call it mad dogging, that look someone gives when they’re sizing you up and you get the feeling a confrontation might be coming. 

    I remained attentive to their interactions, provided guidance, and consistently reinforced the expectations in my home. Gradually, I became more comfortable with how they interacted, eventually trusting them to spend time together without my constant supervision. 

    Then one day, I saw Patches resting against Spice. Knowing how their relationship had started, I appreciated what that moment meant. To me, it was the Patches stamp of approval. It didn’t mean every challenge had disappeared, but it certainly reminded me how far they had come. 

    The Dog I Never Planned to Adopt

    I’ve fostered dogs for years, and my goal has generally been to help them adjust, work through challenges, and prepare for their permanent homes. Spice was no different. 

    As time passed, I began seeing more of her personality. She was becoming comfortable with the household, learning the expectations, and showing me more of the sweet dog I believe had always been there. But I don’t think I fully appreciated how much of a presence she had become until she left for training. 

    Spice attended a three-week training program that included boarding, and during those three weeks, the house felt unusually quiet. I missed her energy, especially waking up to her excitement and hearing her tail wagging against the furniture. That tail of hers can make quite a bit of noise when she’s happy. Sometimes I can hear it hitting things around the house before I even see her. 

    Suddenly, those familiar sounds weren’t there. 

    I realized how much I enjoyed having Spice around and how her happiness had become part of my daily routine. I never intended to adopt her, but those three weeks made me appreciate what she brought into my life. The more I thought about it, the more I felt she would be a wonderful addition to the family. 

    Spice still had things to work on, and she probably always would, just like the rest of us. But she had gained my trust, and I felt comfortable having her around the other dogs. I also appreciated what she’d learned from Marci, who had been an important part of her adjustment. 

    Marci had a calmness about her that I admired. Even when another dog reacted toward her, she had this ability to move away without reacting in return. Watching how she interacted with Spice gave me an appreciation for the influence our resident dogs can have on a foster. 

    I love and miss Marci so much. Since her passing, I’ve welcomed three more fosters and have had opportunities to observe Spice interacting with them. I’d like to think Marci passed the torch to Spice.  

    Although I may never know what these dogs communicate with one another, there’s something almost magical about watching Spice interact with new fosters and imagining that, in her own way, she’s helping them prepare for their forever homes. 

    The Joy She Brings into My Life

    One of the things I appreciate most about Spice is how much happiness she brings into my everyday life. I don’t know how she manages to be so joyful so often, but I’m grateful I get to experience it. 

    There are days when I’m tired, distracted, or simply not feeling my best. Some days I’m tired, distracted, or caught up in things that make it difficult to appreciate the moment I’m in. 

    Then Spice comes along with all that energy of hers. It’s difficult not to smile when I see how excited she is, even when nothing particularly exciting is happening. Sometimes I’ll give her a hug and tell her I’m having an off day. Other times, I’ll find myself saying, “Okay, momma, I’ll be happy.” Of course, that doesn’t mean whatever I’m dealing with suddenly disappears, but her happiness has a way of interrupting those moments when I’m caught up in my own thoughts. 

    She reminds me to appreciate what’s right in front of me. Another day together, another opportunity to enjoy her company, give her a hug, or simply watch her being Spice. 

    I think that’s one of the things I didn’t expect when I started fostering dogs. I understood that I was opening my home to help them, but I didn’t realize how much they could contribute to my own well-being. 

    Spice has been wonderful for my mental health. Not because she makes every difficult day better, but because she gives me another reason to appreciate the good things in my life, even when I’m not feeling my greatest. Her happiness reminds me to be present and appreciate the moments we share.

    Reflection

    When I think about Spice and what she brings into my life, I can’t help thinking about Sei. Without him, I don’t believe I would have experienced fostering the way I have. I wouldn’t have met so many dogs with different personalities, challenges, and stories. Some stayed temporarily before moving on to their permanent homes, while others became part of my family. 

    Each one has contributed something to my life. Some challenged my patience and understanding, while others helped me recognize that there was still so much I needed to learn. And then there are dogs like Spice, who remind me that sometimes the greatest lessons come from simply appreciating the moments we share. 

    I don’t always wake up feeling excited about the day ahead, but Spice greets each morning with a happiness I’ve come to admire. And when I hear that familiar tail hitting the furniture, I know she’s nearby, ready to greet another day with the same happiness I’ve come to love. 

    It’s a simple moment, but one that means a great deal to me. Sei brought something into my life that continues through every dog I’ve welcomed into my home. What started with him has become a journey of learning from one another, appreciating our differences, and helping each dog find their way. And perhaps that’s what Sei’s Way has always meant to me. 

    Related reading:

    Disclaimer

    This article is based on personal experience, observations, and general research. It is intended for informational purposes only and is not a substitute for professional veterinary, medical, training, or behavioral advice. Always consult a qualified professional regarding concerns specific to your dog.

  • Observation Drives the Next Decision 

    In the beginning, I had an idea of how I wanted things to go, but fostering has a way of creating scenarios I wasn’t expecting. Over the years, I’ve learned to trust the process and what each dog has taught me from one foster to another. I still have structure and expectations, but I’ve worked more on remaining calm and keeping my bearings when the environment around us tosses in an unexpected distraction. 

    My current foster has reminded me how quickly those situations can change. Even after three months together, I’m noticing small signals from her that can be easy to miss. I’ve seen dogs wag their tails with a calm demeanor and then gradually show signs that something around them has disrupted that calmness. With my current foster, the change can happen within seconds. Her tail can be wagging and then suddenly become completely still, almost as if it hit a wall. Her fur doesn’t necessarily rise, so that quick change may be one of the few indicators I get before hearing a low growl or seeing her react. Within that moment, I have only a few seconds to either make a correction or observe more closely what caused the disruption. 

    I saw this recently when I introduced her to another pack of dogs. I explained her story beforehand and that she needed a slow introduction. Everyone was calm, so I gave her some slack on the leash. She was wagging her tail, but then I heard a low growl. I corrected her and brought her closer to me. 

    Then another pack approached because the dogs knew each other. One of those dogs was overly excited, and I’ve learned that this type of introduction can cause my foster to react. Now I had to pay attention to her while also being aware that my resident dog can react when the foster reacts. I kept my foster close, reminded her that we were okay, made corrections when needed, and most importantly, reminded myself to remain calm. 

    There was a lot happening within a short amount of time. That’s where observation matters. The best thing I can do is pay attention to what the dog is communicating before deciding what comes next. 

    What Worked Before May Not Work This Time 

    I’ve fostered enough dogs to have a foundation that I rely on. I introduce structure, use walks to help the pack adjust, provide a crate so a new foster has their own space, and establish expectations inside my home. That foundation stays the same, but how I help each dog understand what’s expected of them may be different. 

    I wish I could say there’s a cookie-cutter approach that works with every dog, but there isn’t. Some dogs pick things up quickly while others require different forms of guidance and more time. Each dog requires patience and understanding because when they first arrive, we haven’t developed a way of communicating with each other and my expectations are still unknown to them. 

    I can start with what previous fosters have taught me, but I still must pay attention to the dog in front of me. An approach that helped one foster may need to be adjusted for another. Something they weren’t ready for initially may even become useful later as they become more comfortable. 

    That doesn’t happen through words. It happens through observation. 

    Knowing When I Need to Adjust

    Every foster I’ve had has contributed something to my experience and given me more to draw from when the next dog comes along. Part of that experience is recognizing when what I’m doing isn’t getting the response I expected. Instead of continuing with the same approach, I must assess whether an adjustment may help. 

    There are common questions I review in my mind. Is this approach helping? What else can I implement if I’m not seeing a positive outcome? 

    My current foster can reach a point where a correction isn’t enough to redirect her attention. I’ve learned that having her sit and bringing her closer to me can give her a moment to settle. Once she’s calmer, we can start moving again. A few steps later, I may give her affection to let her know I’m proud of her. 

    Observation isn’t only helping me recognize when I need to make an adjustment. It’s also helping me understand how she communicates with me. Earlier in our time together, she would pull away or seem unsure when I tried to give her affection. More recently, she’s become comfortable receiving it and has started showing me her own ways of communicating. She’ll press her cold, wet nose against my hand when she wants my attention. If my hand is hanging out to the side, she’ll give it a little nose bump, almost like her version of a high five. 

    She also has no problem letting me know when she’s excited for a walk with a simple bark or whine as we get ready to leave. She loves those walks because she gets to investigate all those cool smells that probably mean a lot more to a dog than they do to me. 

    Those moments matter, too. Observation isn’t only about catching unwanted behavior before it escalates. It’s also how I’m learning who the dog is. 

    We’re both learning. 

    Progress Can Change the Plan

    As a foster becomes more comfortable, I start noticing small changes. Something they weren’t ready for earlier may become easier. A dog that needed more space may begin seeking interaction. A foster who was unsure about affection may start bumping my hand asking for it. 

    I celebrate those small victories because they can represent huge movement forward for all of us. They also remind me that I don’t have to make decisions simply because a certain number of days have passed. I can watch the dog and adjust as they show me they’re becoming more comfortable. 

    Progress doesn’t always move in one direction either. There can be moments when we need to go back a few steps, and that’s okay. Sometimes going back to the basics gives us an opportunity to reinforce what we’ve already worked on before moving forward again.

    Every Foster Adds to the Experience

    Every foster has added something to the way I think. 

    Some have challenged what I thought I knew. Others have made me realize I was moving too quickly. There have been dogs that required more patience than I expected and others that surprised me with how quickly they adjusted. 

    My foundation for fostering has become stronger over the years, along with my ability to adjust within it by remaining calm, understanding body language, and recognizing how quickly a dog’s reaction can change. 

    Sometimes a dog gives me several indicators that something is changing. Other times the change happens like a lightning bolt, here and gone. The more time I spend with a foster, the more I learn their individual way of communicating. 

    Beginning with a new foster can actually be somewhat fun because we’re trying to decipher each other’s language. I don’t know what they’re thinking or feeling, and they can’t tell me in a way I immediately understand. At the same time, they’re learning what I’m communicating to them about expectations, boundaries, and other limitations meant to keep everyone calm and safe. What I’ve learned from previous fosters gives me a starting point while we figure out how to communicate with each other. 

    Reflection

    If I could talk to myself when I first started fostering, I think the first thing I’d say is, “Hey, kickback.” 

    I spent a lot of time trying to learn what I was supposed to do. I read information online, watched videos, took classes, and learned different approaches. All of that gave me tools and knowledge, but the dogs themselves have taught me just as much along the way. 

    I’d remind myself that being a confident leader doesn’t mean I’ll know exactly what to do in every situation. There are too many unpredictable things that can happen. A dog can react differently than I expected. Another dog can appear around a corner. A loose dog can approach the pack. A squirrel, skateboard, barking dog behind a fence, or even an impatient driver can change the environment within seconds. 

    What matters is my ability to remain calm enough to assess what’s happening without allowing my own anxiety or frustration to direct what happens next. 

    Related reading:

    Disclaimer

    This article is based on personal experience, observations, and general research. It is intended for informational purposes only and is not a substitute for professional veterinary, medical, training, or behavioral advice. Always consult a qualified professional regarding concerns specific to your dog.

  • Celebration of Life

    Sei was nine years old when I adopted him, and I was his fourth home. After only a few weeks together, I knew I couldn’t imagine putting him through another transition. Whatever happened before our paths crossed, I wanted my home to become his forever home. 

    Earlier today, I found myself staring at a picture of Sei and thinking, “He believed in me when I didn’t.” 

    When Sei first came into my life, I didn’t have the knowledge, patience, or understanding of dogs that I have today. I didn’t walk him in the beginning because he would display aggression, and I lacked the patience to work through it. Eventually, I developed a walking routine with him, but looking back, I can see how much I’ve learned since then. 

    Sei was loving and kind to me, but I don’t think I fully understood him until later in his life. There’s some guilt in knowing I could have done better. There are things I wish I had understood sooner and moments I would approach differently today. At the same time, I wouldn’t be the foster I am today without everything Sei taught me along the way. 

    Before Sei, I considered myself more of a cat person. I had been around dogs through previous relationships and was comfortable with them, but I never loved a dog the way I loved Sei. He was there during some of the darker moments in my life and somehow seemed to know when I needed comfort. 

    Sei made it to 14 years old. During the five years we had together, he changed my relationship with dogs in a way I couldn’t have predicted when I first brought him home. After he was gone, I began to understand some of his lessons differently. Being patient, remaining calm, and being present became more meaningful as more foster dogs came through my door. 

    My experience with Sei also drew me toward fostering older dogs. I wanted to give them the opportunity to feel loved, safe, and comfortable during the later part of their lives. That didn’t mean I would only foster seniors. Younger dogs have come through my home too. I simply found myself naturally gravitating toward older dogs. 

    I had no idea where that decision would eventually lead me. My first foster could have easily discouraged me from continuing, but I had a supportive partner at the time who encouraged me to keep going. I’m grateful I didn’t give up. If I had, I may never have met Marci or many of the dogs who followed. 

    Learning with Every Foster

    Wanting to foster senior dogs didn’t mean I knew what I was doing. My first foster made that clear pretty quickly. 

    I was a beginner and probably a little too confident. I didn’t use a crate because I didn’t understand how important it could be. That first experience removed any doubt I had and taught me that every foster needs time to decompress and learn about their new environment. 

    They may need to learn where to potty, when they’re going to eat, where they can rest, and that their crate can become a place where they have their own space. 

    As more dogs came through my home, I also learned how different each foster could be. Some have bursts of energy and want to play, while others are perfectly content stretching out somewhere comfortable or quietly hanging out nearby. 

    Over time, I started appreciating the smaller moments. A dog who kept their distance may begin approaching me on their own. Their body may appear more relaxed when I enter the room. Maybe I get a tail wag when they see me, or they choose to lie down a little closer than they did the day before. I don’t need every moment to mean the dog completely trusts me. Sometimes I simply appreciate those small signs of progress as our relationship develops.

    When Marci Picked Up the Torch

    I took a break from fostering for a while, and then the pandemic hit in early 2020. Later that year, with the holidays approaching, I decided it was time to foster again. 

    I went to my local animal shelter, but construction had caused the dogs to be reassigned to other LA County shelters. I was redirected to Van Nuys and made my way over. I’ve always preferred allowing shelter staff or volunteers to select the dog I foster, and that day was no different. 

    The staff already had a dog waiting for me. 

    Out came Marci, a gray pit bull mix. 

    I brought her home, gave her a bath, and began introducing her to my pack. She was uncertain about what was happening next, but she was gentle from the beginning and did well meeting the dogs who were part of my home at the time, including Sei and Patches. 

    I didn’t know it then, but that trip to a different shelter would bring another dog into my life who would mean more to me than I could have imagined. 

    I was fostering Marci during the last few months of Sei’s life, and there’s a picture of the two of them that has become one of my favorites. Marci is lying close to Sei. I know I’m projecting my own meaning onto that picture, but when I look at it now, I imagine Sei somehow passing along the role he had played in my life. 

    In my mind, Marci picked up the torch. 

    Marci eventually became more than my foster. After a little over a year of fostering her, I adopted her. Marci’s calm demeanor made her a natural presence around many of the dogs who came through my home. When a foster was nervous, Marci didn’t need to force an interaction. Sometimes she gave them space, and other times her quiet presence seemed to provide reassurance. Gradually, I began seeing her as a mentor to many of the fosters who came through our home. 

    But Marci’s place in my life became much more than the role she played with the fosters. 

    After Sei died, I was devastated. Months later, there were still moments when the grief would bring me to my knees. Marci would snuggle next to me or simply stay nearby. Whenever I showed her affection, whether I was caressing her, petting her, or scratching her back, she would give me this expression that looked like a smile. I have pictures and even a video of that smile. As she got older and the gray filled her face, it eventually looked like a thin milk mustache. 

    I never expected to experience the kind of connection I had with Sei again, but Marci showed me that love didn’t have to look or feel the same to be just as powerful. They were uniquely special in their own ways. 

    When Marci’s life came to an end, everything happened much faster than I was prepared for. Even on her last day, as I caressed her, she managed to give me one of those smiles. 

    I miss her tremendously, but I also think about everything that happened because our paths crossed. She became part of my family, helped welcome other fosters into our home, and was there for me when I was learning how to live without Sei. 

    I’m forever grateful that I had the opportunity to be part of her journey. 

    Slowing Down with Patches

    Patches came into my life differently. I originally agreed to watch her for a former boss, but eventually she became an owner surrender and needed another home. 

    Patches wasn’t comfortable with all the changes happening around her. She kept her distance from me, and we had to build trust with each other one step at a time. I wasn’tplanning to adopt her either. Her previous owner was looking for someone who might want Patches, but after caring for her for more than a year, I eventually thought, why not? 

    I adopted her when she was nine years old. 

    Before Patches, I had always preferred larger dogs and had never had a small dog of my own. This little Chihuahua mix changed my outlook on small dogs and eventually found her own role within the pack. 

    Patches has no problem letting another dog know when they’ve crossed one of her boundaries. If the play gets too excited around her, she’ll let them know they need to calm down or take it somewhere else. She also doesn’t cuddle with fosters right away. Patches keeps her distance until she feels safe around them. When she eventually chooses to curl up next to one of them, I jokingly call it the Patches Stamp of Approval. 

    She’s a little badass, and I love her for it. 

    At 16 years old, Patches is still out there walking with the pack. Being a senior hasn’t stopped her from joining us, although these days, the pack moves at Patches’ pace. She still has plenty of energy, but I can see her slowing down. If a walk runs longer than expected or the weather is a little warmer, I’ll carry her for portions of it so she can take a break. 

    The gray on her face reminds me to be present and appreciate these moments while they’re happening. I know our time together isn’t unlimited, but I don’t want that thought to overshadow the fact that she’s still here. I get to walk with her, carry her when she needs a break, and be her protector, her Kahu. 

    The pace doesn’t matter as much anymore. What matters is that Patches is still out there walking with her pack. 

    What Carries Forward

    Sei’s Way originally referred to Sei’s favorite walking route. As I continued fostering, those words gradually took on a different meaning. They became a way for me to describe the patience, calmness, and understanding I try to bring into fostering. 

    Marci became part of that too. 

    Spice, one of my most recent fosters, spent a little over a year with Marci and had the opportunity to learn from her. Spice displayed unwanted behaviors that included resource guarding, and I watched Marci navigate some of those moments in ways that fascinated me. 

    If a dog tried to bite or nudge her, Marci often seemed to move just in time to avoid contact. There were also times when a foster was resource guarding and Marci would slowly back toward them while sitting, almost scooting her way closer instead of approaching them head-on. I never knew exactly what Marci was thinking or how the other dog interpreted what she was doing. I only knew that Marci had her own way of navigating those situations. 

    Watching interactions like those was one of the reasons I began seeing Marci as a mentor within the pack. Spice had more than a year to experience that calm presence for herself. 

    I’ve developed a foundation for how I welcome fosters into my home, but I’ve also learned that I must adjust for the dog in front of me. The crate, walks, and slow introductions are part of that foundation. How long a dog needs to decompress or how quickly they’re ready for the next step can be different with every foster. 

    That’s part of what makes me look forward to fostering for at least another 10 years. Each dog arrives with their own experiences, behaviors, and way of communicating, which means there will always be something new for me to learn. 

    Today, Spice is part of my family, and I’m beginning to see some of that same maturity developing in her. She’s still young and has plenty left to learn, but so do I. 

    Reflection

    I’ve heard people tell me many times that they could never foster a senior dog because they would become too attached or because it would be too difficult knowing their time together might be short. 

    I understand. It isn’t easy. 

    I’ve become attached, and I’ve experienced the heartbreak that comes with losing dogs who became part of my family. Sei made it to 14 years old. Marci was 12 when she died, much sooner than I was prepared for. Patches is now 16, and the gray covering her face reminds me that the time I have with these dogs will never feel long enough. 

    Losing them hurts, and I know there will be more difficult goodbyes ahead as I continue fostering. Without Sei, I may never have started fostering. Without fostering, I never would have met Marci or many of the dogs who followed. 

    Things could have been so much different, but here I am. 

    Related reading:

    Disclaimer

    This article is based on personal experience, observations, and general research. It is intended for informational purposes only and is not a substitute for professional veterinary, medical, training, or behavioral advice. Always consult a qualified professional regarding concerns specific to your dog.

  • Fostering Means Learning Along the Way

    Every time my pack and I head out for a walk, someone eventually smiles and asks if I’m a dog walker. 

    When I tell them I foster dogs, the conversation usually changes. They ask about the foster, how long they’ve been with me, or how I get everyone to walk together so calmly. I often hear comments like, “What a beautiful pack,” or “They’re so well behaved.” 

    What they don’t see is the work behind those walks. There are still moments when a member of the pack makes a decision that isn’t the best for our walk. It takes practice, patience, and plenty of repetition to create a calm pack.  Sometimes what people see is the finished product without knowing everything that happened along the way. 

    Learning Through the Unexpected Moments of Fostering

    Every foster arrives with their own experiences, their own way of communicating, and their own understanding of the world. They don’t immediately know what I expect from them or how my pack operates, and I don’t expect them to. 

    My goal is to give them the time they need to decompress while helping them learn the structure and expectations that I hope will prepare them for a successful adoption. 

    I didn’t always understand how important each part of that process could be. 

    My first foster removed any doubt I had about the importance of using a crate. I wasn’t familiar with how valuable it could be during decompression, but that experience showed me how the crate could reinforce safety and create boundaries while everyone adjusts to one another. 

    That lesson stayed with me, and every foster since then has continued teaching me something new. 

    Even now, I don’t assume I have everything figured out. Every dog has their own story, and learning how they communicate requires me to pay attention before deciding what comes next. 

    Progress Doesn’t Always Look the Way We Expect

    My current foster was timid and easily startled by sudden movements and loud noises when she first arrived. Because of that, I’ve had to consider her sensitivities when interacting with her and even when correcting other members of the pack. 

    For example, I may clap my hands to redirect one of my resident dogs before an unwanted behavior escalates. With my current foster, that same clap can startle her enough that she runs outside. I’ve learned to check where she is before using a louder correction because even when the correction isn’t meant for her, she doesn’t know that. 

    As the weeks passed, I watched her become more comfortable with me and the pack. At the same time, I started noticing behaviors that weren’t noticeable during her first few weeks. 

    Recently, she started charging a fence when dogs behind it barked at the pack. Instead of assuming I understood why she reacted, I wanted to see whether the same behavior would happen without the pack around her. 

    I took her for a walk by herself and intentionally passed another home with barking dogs behind the fence. She didn’t react. I moved closer so she could clearly see the dogs, and she remained calm. 

    That made me stop and think. 

    I don’t know exactly why her behavior changes when she’s walking with the pack. She may feel more confident with them around her, but that’s only my assumption. What I do know is that walking her separately gave me an opportunity to see another side of the behavior. 

    Whatever the reason may be, it reminded me that a dog can make tremendous progress in one area while still needing guidance in another. 

    Understanding the Situation Around the Behavior

    One evening during dinner, my current foster taught me another lesson. 

    She was in her crate with her food bowl in front of her while I had her waiting for the release command to eat. As I waited, I noticed her looking intently over my left shoulder before she gave a low growl. 

    I knew the growl wasn’t directed at me because her attention wasn’t on me. I immediately interrupted the behavior with an “Ah Ah” verbal correction and continued watching her. She stopped growling, and I told my resident dog behind me to back up while I remained focused on my foster. 

    Once everything seemed more under control and my foster was calm, I gave her the release command to eat and closed the crate door. 

    The following morning, I recreated the same situation. One of my resident dogs was again behind me while my foster waited for her food. This time, she remained calm and didn’t show the same behavior before I released her to eat. 

    That experience reminded me how important it is to understand what I’m seeing before deciding how to respond. If I rush to react without paying attention to the entire situation, I may misunderstand what caused the behavior and respond based on the wrong assumption.  

    Every Dog Continues Learning

    Something else surprised me as my current foster continued adjusting to the pack. I noticed one of my resident dogs beginning to fall back into behaviors that I thought we had already worked through. 

    During our walks, my foster and resident dog began reacting together when dogs barked at them from behind fences. There was even a moment when they both charged toward a fence because they anticipated the dogs would be there. I had to interrupt the behavior, have them sit, and wait until they were focused on us before continuing the walk. 

    I temporarily switched both dogs from their martingale collars to prong collars to help reinforce the corrections they were already familiar with. I prefer using martingale collars, so the goal isn’t to keep them on prong collars. I’m using them as a temporary tool while we continue working through the behavior and build enough consistency to transition back. 

    Watching one of my resident dogs fall back into an unwanted behavior reminded me that learning doesn’t only apply to the newest foster. The arrival of another dog can change the dynamics of the pack, and sometimes a resident dog needs additional guidance too. My expectations don’t change simply because a dog has lived with me longer. I’m still paying attention to everyone and interrupting unwanted behaviors when needed so the entire pack can continue learning together. 

    Reflection

    Fostering has taught me that things aren’t always going to go the way I expect. A dog can be doing great and suddenly show a behavior I haven’t seen before. A resident dog could fall back into an old behavior when I thought we had already worked through it. Those unexpected moments used to require more thought, but over time I’ve learned to remain calm and assess what’s happening before I react. 

    Patience and consistency have become a big part of how I approach those moments. I can’t expect the dogs to make better decisions if I’m not willing to give them the opportunity to learn from the ones I don’t want repeated. I’ve learned to interrupt unwanted behaviors while creating an environment where they have the opportunity to make better decisions. 

    Dogs aren’t the only ones learning. Every foster continues to challenge what I think I know and gives me another opportunity to learn. I don’t expect that to change, and I wouldn’t want it to. 

    Related reading:

    Disclaimer

    This article is based on personal experience, observations, and general research. It is intended for informational purposes only and is not a substitute for professional veterinary, medical, training, or behavioral advice. Always consult a qualified professional regarding concerns specific to your dog.

  • Welcoming a New Foster into My Pack 

    Every time I bring a new foster home, I remind myself that this dog has no idea what to expect. 

    Some have spent months in a shelter. Others have been found as strays or surrendered by their families. Whatever brought them to my home, they are walking into a completely unfamiliar environment with unfamiliar dogs, unfamiliar routines, and an unfamiliar person asking them to trust again. 

    Because of that, I never assume every introduction should happen the same way. 

    Over the years, I’ve developed a process that has worked well for me, but it isn’t a checklist that I follow without thinking. Every foster is different, and my approach changes based on what each dog shows me. 

    No Two Fosters Are the Same 

    One of the first things I pay attention to is the dog’s body language. 

    Some dogs arrive overwhelmed and anxious. Others appear surprisingly calm. Those first observations help me decide what happens next. 

    If a dog seems nervous, I start with a walk before introducing them to my pack. The walk gives them an opportunity to move, explore their new surroundings, and begin settling into the environment. I allow them more freedom to sniff because they’re gathering information about a place they’ve never been before. 

    If the dog appears relaxed and comfortable, I may begin introductions sooner. There isn’t a fixed timeline. I let the dog’s behavior guide the decision. 

    Meeting the Pack

    When it’s time for introductions, I don’t bring everyone together at once. 

    Instead, I usually introduce each member of my pack one at a time while the new foster remains on a leash. This allows me to observe both dogs without creating unnecessary excitement or confusion. 

    Throughout the introduction, I’m watching everyone’s body language. 

    If I notice tension building, I create space, redirect their attention, or pause the interaction altogether. Sometimes that means starting over later, and I’mperfectly comfortable doing that. 

    The goal isn’t to make the dogs become friends within a few minutes. 

    The goal is to help them feel safe while learning that this new environment has structure and clear expectations. 

    The First Walk Together

    Once everyone has been introduced, we head out for our first walk together. One thing I prefer is keeping the group moving during the beginning of the walk instead of immediately stopping for every interesting smell. I want the new foster to experience moving with the pack before worrying about exploring every scent along the way. 

    As the walk continues, opportunities to sniff naturally happen, and the dogs often begin interacting with one another in their own way. 

    Over the years, I’ve found that these walks help the new foster begin learning the routine while also allowing me to continue observing how they respond to the other dogs and to different situations we encounter. 

    Every walk gives me more information about what the dog is comfortable with and where they may need additional guidance. 

    Continuing the Introduction at Home

    The introduction doesn’t end when the walk is over. 

    Depending on how everything went, I may spend time together in the backyard or inside the living room while the new foster remains on leash. This allows everyone to continue becoming familiar with one another while I supervise the interactions. 

    Afterward, the foster returns to their crate to continue decompressing. During those first few days, the crate plays an important role in helping them adjust to their new environment while I continue observing how they respond to the routine and to the other dogs. 

    Even during this stage, I’m still observing. 

    Sometimes one of my resident dogs will become curious and walk toward the crate. I don’t allow them to crowd the new foster. I want the foster to have a space where they can relax without feeling pressured by the other dogs. 

    As the days go by and everyone becomes more comfortable, those boundaries often become less necessary. 

    Building Trust Takes Time

    The first introduction is only the beginning. 

    Over the next several days, and sometimes longer, I continue watching how everyone interacts during walks, around the house, and during daily routines. If I notice a dog testing boundaries or becoming uncomfortable, we simply slow things down and return to the point where they were successful. 

    I’ve learned not to measure progress by how quickly I can move through the process. 

    Instead, I pay attention to what each dog is communicating through their behavior and adjust my approach accordingly. Some dogs become comfortable quickly, while others need more time, more structure, or additional one-on-one work before they’re ready for the next step. 

    Returning to the basics isn’t moving backward. It’s giving the dog another opportunity to succeed before asking more of them. 

    Every dog progresses at their own pace and learning to adapt to that pace has become one of the most important parts of fostering. 

    Reflection

    One of the biggest lessons I’ve learned is that I can’t force the dogs to trust one another. 

    What I can do is create an environment where they have the opportunity to succeed. That means paying attention, slowing things down when needed, and allowing trust to develop at the dogs’ pace instead of my own. 

    I embrace what each dog teaches me as I work on becoming a better foster and pack leader. Looking back, I realize the introductions themselves are only a small part of the process. The real work happens in the days that follow as routines develop, confidence grows, and the dogs begin to understand one another.  

    Related reading:

    Disclaimer

    This article is based on personal experience, observations, and general research. It is intended for informational purposes only and is not a substitute for professional veterinary, medical, training, or behavioral advice. Always consult a qualified professional regarding concerns specific to your dog.

  • How I Think During Walks

    When I first began fostering, I thought walking a dog was as simple as putting on a leash and heading outside. I quickly realized there was much more happening than simply going for a walk.

    My resident dog behaved well at home, but once we stepped outside, he pulled on the leash and reacted to distractions without much guidance from me. At the time, I didn’t know how to help him, so I relied more on yard time than walks because I lacked the confidence and experience to manage his behavior. 

    Everything changed when we started fostering dogs. Every dog arrived with different experiences, different personalities, and different ways of responding to the world around them. I read articles, watched training videos, attended dog training classes, and learned from rescue organizations.  

    Still, I realized that all the information I absorbed had to be paired with real-life experience because every foster became another opportunity to better understand dog behavior and become a more confident pack leader on our walks. 

    Preparing for the Walk

    One of the first things I pay attention to is the dog’s energy before we even step outside. 

    Some dogs become excited the moment they see the leash. Others become anxious or overstimulated before the walk even begins. Over time, I’ve learned there is a difference between a dog that is happily looking forward to the walk and a dog whose excitement is beginning to take over. 

    If I notice that energy building, I’ll often tell them, “Okay, calm down,” or “Relax,” before clipping on the leash. The goal isn’t to eliminate their excitement. I simply want them to begin the walk in a calmer state of mind.

    Before we leave the property, I also wait until everyone is calm before giving the command to move through the gate. That small routine reinforces that we begin the walk together rather than rushing into the environment. 

    The equipment I use has also changed as my experience has grown. Most of my dogs walk using a martingale collar or slip lead. In some situations, I have used a prong collar when additional guidance was needed. As the dog’s behavior improves, I gradually transition them to less corrective equipment. One of my own dogs wore a prong collar for nearly a year before consistently demonstrating the behavior that allowed her to transition back to a martingale collar.

    I’ve learned that the dog’s mindset, my mindset, and the energy we bring into the walk often influence everything that follows. 

    Observing the Environment

    Once we’re walking, my attention shifts beyond the dogs themselves. I’m constantly observing our surroundings, looking ahead for other dogs, people, bicycles, children, wildlife, barking dogs behind fences, or anything that may change the environment around us. 

    One experience stands out from only a few days after bringing home a new foster. While walking with my pack, a family approached and asked if their children could pet the dogs. The foster appeared calm, and the family commented on how relaxed she seemed. I thanked them for asking but explained that she had only recently left the shelter and I was still learning how she responded in different situations. They understood immediately.

    Moments like that remind me that appearances don’t always tell the whole story. A dog may look calm while still feeling overwhelmed by everything happening around them. My responsibility is to understand the dog in front of me rather than assume how they’ll respond.

    That awareness extends beyond my dogs. During another walk, a parent and child stopped along a narrow sidewalk to let us pass. As we squeezed through the small opening, the child leaned toward my pack and one of my resident dogs growled. I immediately gave a verbal correction followed by a leash correction. The parent quickly realized the situation and created more space for us to pass safely. 

    Staying aware has become one of the most valuable skills I’ve developed while fostering because it gives me more opportunities to act before a situation escalates. 

    Helping the Dog Make Better Decisions

    When a dog begins reacting to something in the environment, my first goal isn’t to stop the behavior. My goal is to help the dog make better decisions. 

    Every situation is different. Sometimes that means asking for a sit. Other times it means creating space, waiting, or simply slowing everything down until the dog is ready to move forward again. 

    Recently, one of my resident dogs began reacting to barking dogs behind a fence while walking alongside my newest foster. I noticed her body language was beginning to change before the reaction fully developed. 

    Instead of continuing the walk, I stopped the entire pack. I asked everyone to sit. 

    Each time my resident dog stood up to focus on the distraction, I calmly repositioned her into a sit and redirected her attention back toward me. My newest foster soon began mirroring the same behavior, so she also found herself sitting beside the pack. 

    We stayed there for several minutes. I reminded them that we wouldn’t continue walking until everyone was calm. Once they relaxed, we moved forward without another reaction. 

    That experience reminded me that sometimes the best way to move forward is to stop. Breaking the walk back down to the basics gave each dog another opportunity to make a better decision. 

    Building Confidence Through Repetition

    Progress during walks rarely happens because of one successful correction. It happens because the same lessons are reinforced over many different walks. 

    Some days I intentionally choose quieter routes with fewer distractions. Other days I choose routes that provide more opportunities to practice around people, dogs, or other everyday situations. As the dog becomes more comfortable, I gradually introduce new environments and experiences at a pace they can handle. 

    The goal isn’t to avoid the world. The goal is to help the dog learn how to move through it with confidence.

    There are times when I create distance from a distraction, but we don’t move forward until everyone is calm. As my experience has grown, I’ve learned there isn’t one perfect response. Every dog learns at a different pace, and I’ve found that remaining patient, consistent, and observant allows me to adjust the walk based on what each dog is communicating. 

    With time, those repeated experiences begin to build confidence. The dog starts recognizing what is expected, and situations that once felt overwhelming often become easier for all of us to navigate together. 

    Reflection

    Walks have become one of the greatest teachers in my fostering journey. What once felt intimidating has become one of the best opportunities to understand how each dog communicates. Every walk provides another chance to observe, adjust, and strengthen the trust we’re building together.

    Some days the progress is obvious. Other days it’s measured by something as simple as walking a few extra steps without reacting. Those small improvements remind me that every dog learns at their own pace, and it’s my responsibility to adjust my approach based on what they’re communicating. 

    Success is no longer measured by how far we walked or how quickly behavior changed. Instead, I find myself appreciating the small moments that show trust is continuing to grow, because those moments often become the foundation for everything that follows. 

    Related reading:

    Disclaimer

    This article is based on personal experience, observations, and general research. It is intended for informational purposes only and is not a substitute for professional veterinary, medical, training, or behavioral advice. Always consult a qualified professional regarding concerns specific to your dog.

  • When Food Becomes Something to Protect

    One of the first times I fostered a dog that showed guarding behavior around food, I wasn’t sure what to expect or how to respond. At the time, I knew very little about dog behavior, and the experience pushed me to learn as much as I could while remaining patient and keeping everyone safe. 

    Through fostering, I’ve learned that resource guarding around food requires patience, observation, and consistency. The same awareness used during feeding can also help prevent problems when giving treats or managing space around food throughout the day. 

    It can feel intimidating at first, especially for someone new to fostering. In many cases, resource guarding around food is not about a dog being difficult. It often develops from survival instincts, uncertainty, or a lack of trust in the environment. 

    Some rescue dogs may have experienced competition around food before entering a foster home, while others may have developed protective habits because food was once limited or unpredictable. In many situations, we simply don’t know what experiences shaped their behavior, which is why I try to approach each dog with patience rather than assumptions. 

    Observing the Feeding Routine

    Through fostering, I’ve learned to stay aware throughout the entire feeding routine because food resource guarding can appear at different moments. It may begin while food is being prepared, when you approach with the bowl, as the bowl is placed down, while the dog is eating, after the meal ends, or whenever other dogs are nearby. 

    Each of those moments gives the dog another opportunity to communicate how they are feeling. Depending on the dog and the situation, their body language may begin to change before the behavior itself does. 

    That’s why I’ve learned to pay close attention to body language during feeding. Recognizing those early changes often gives me an opportunity to slow the situation down before the behavior escalates. 

    Some examples I’ve observed include: 

    • stiff body posture
    • growling
    • intense focus on the surroundings
    • watching other dogs while eating
    • eating very quickly
    • excessive drooling caused by stress

    Once the feeding routine begins, even subtle changes in body language can provide valuable information about how comfortable the dog feels in that moment. 

    Building a Safer Feeding Routine

    Through fostering, I’ve developed a feeding routine that helps create a calmer and more predictable environment for everyone involved. Every dog is different, so I adjust my approach based on the dog’s behavior while keeping safety as a priority. 

    If I’m uncertain about a dog’s behavior around food, I place the foster dog in the crate before I begin preparing the meal. Sometimes the aroma of food alone is enough to increase excitement, so establishing that routine before food is introduced helps keep everyone safe while the dog continues to adjust. 

    I’ve also found it helpful to feed my resident dogs first so I can give my full attention to the newcomer. Feeding the foster separately inside the crate allows them to focus on their own meal without worrying about the other dogs nearby. 

    If the dog begins to escalate, I calmly step away with the food and return once they settle. I repeat that process until I can place the bowl without tension and the dog remains calm throughout the feeding routine. 

    As weeks progress, I may begin asking the dog to wait briefly before eating and gradually introducing the next step in the routine. 

    Every dog learns at a different pace, and I’ve found that remaining patient, consistent, and observant allows me to adjust the routine based on what each dog is communicating. 

    Patience, Structure, and Signs of Progress

    Patience has become one of the most important parts of my feeding routine. Every dog learns at a different pace, so I pay close attention to the environment and adjust my approach based on what each dog is communicating while keeping everyone safe. 

    With my pack, I use slow feeder bowls to help slow down their food intake. During the first few meals, I may allow a new foster to eat immediately before gradually introducing short moments of waiting. The goal is to help the dog learn that calm behavior comes before the meal. Some dogs develop that understanding quickly, while others require much more time. Building trust means working at the dog’s pace while making small adjustments along the way.

    Even my resident dogs and established fosters sometimes need reminders while I’m working with a newcomer. That has taught me to stay aware of each dog’s position to help prevent unnecessary tension. 

    As time goes on, I begin noticing signs of progress, such as:

    • no growling when approached
    • a calmer body posture
    • less tension around food
    • reduced focus on other dogs
    • a more relaxed and happy demeanor

    Some dogs eventually lie down after eating and patiently wait for the next step. For me, that’s often one of the clearest signs they are beginning to feel safe. 

    I experienced this with one foster who initially showed strong guarding behavior around food. Whenever I approached her crate with food, she would bark and charge forward, especially if another dog came close.

    Feeding her was challenging. At times, it took nearly 30 minutes just to place the slow feeder bowl inside the crate. 

    I stayed consistent. If she reacted, I calmly stepped away with the food and returned once she settled. Over time, she began to understand that calm behavior came before the meal. As she improved, the waiting time became shorter. Eventually, I introduced brief pauses before feeding so she could continue practicing patience.

    Later, I began feeding her outside the crate while using my body as a barrier and asking the other dogs to give her space. There were still moments when she reacted, but with consistency, structure, and clear boundaries, she gradually learned that her food was safe. 

    Today, I feed the dogs about two to three feet apart without any reactions. I still monitor them closely to ensure each dog respects the space of the one eating.

    Those changes didn’t happen overnight, but watching trust gradually replace survival behavior reminded me that meaningful progress often comes one meal at a time. 

    Reflection

    Food has become one of the earliest opportunities I’ve found to build trust with a foster dog. I remember feeling uncertain because I didn’t fully understand what the dog’s behavior was trying to communicate. Behavior around food can feel overwhelming, especially when you’re new to fostering. 

    As I’ve continued fostering, I’ve learned that every dog responds differently. Some begin to relax within a few days, while others need much more time before they understand that food is no longer something they must protect. That process has taught me to remain patient, observe their behavior, and adjust my approach based on what each dog is communicating. 

    Watching that trust grow meal after meal has reminded me that some of the most meaningful progress in fostering happens during the everyday routines we often take for granted. 

    Ultimately, my goal is to create a safer environment for the foster dog, my resident dogs, and everyone involved. 

    Related reading:

    Disclaimer

    This article is based on personal experience, observations, and general research. It is intended for informational purposes only and is not a substitute for professional veterinary, medical, training, or behavioral advice. Always consult a qualified professional regarding concerns specific to your dog.

  • When Behavior Is Misunderstood

    Through fostering, I’ve learned that behavior is often more complicated than it first appears.

    Every dog I’ve fostered has provided lessons that have helped me better understand how dogs communicate through their behavior and body language. I recall a dog I fostered who was very protective of his lower back near the base of his tail and had been labeled aggressive, so I approached him with caution.

    I approached him calmly and with patience as he displayed defensive behavior when certain areas near his lower back were touched. My approach was to learn which areas felt safe to touch and which areas remained sensitive. I couldn’t bathe him at first, so I focused on building trust and teaching him a routine.

    Through a gradual process, he slowly became more comfortable with handling and touch. A few months later, he allowed me to touch his lower back. I worked to desensitize the area by remaining patient and offering gentle touch along his upper body. Over time, the gentle and consistent approach helped him become more comfortable around the area that once caused defensive reactions. The veterinarian did not identify any medical concerns, which also gave me confidence to continue reinforcing the trust we had built.

    Situations That May Cause Reactive Behavior

    Rescue dogs often come from unstable or stressful environments where they may have:

    • competed for food
    • experienced mistreatment
    • lacked consistent guidance
    • or experienced repeated changes in their surroundings

    Understanding this can change how we respond. Instead of immediately reacting, we pause, observe the situation, create space when needed, and remain patient.

    Rescue dogs may respond differently depending on what they are experiencing in their environment, especially during moments of uncertainty or stress. I do my best to remain calm and patient to help create a more stable environment for the dog, while also understanding that unexpected situations can still happen.

    Through fostering, I’ve seen situations where dogs react in ways that may appear aggressive, such as:

    • leash reactivity
    • resource guarding
    • space guarding

    These reactions are often connected to uncertainty, discomfort, or the dog trying to create space and stability within their environment.

    For example, resource guarding may involve a dog becoming protective over food, toys, or resting areas. Some dogs may display growling, stiff body language, or other defensive reactions when they feel uncomfortable or uncertain in those situations.

    Some rescue dogs I fostered required extra patience and preparation during feeding time. Through routine, observation, and consistency, I slowly learned how to approach mealtime in ways that helped reduce tension and create a calmer environment.

    Early Warning Signs to Watch For

    In most cases, dogs give signals before their behavior escalates.

    Some signals are subtle and easy to miss, especially if you don’t yet recognize what they mean. These early signs may include:

    • turning head away
    • lip licking
    • yawning
    • becoming still
    • avoiding eye contact

    If those signals are missed, the dog may begin showing more visible signs, such as:

    • stiff body posture
    • intense staring
    • raised hackles
    • growling

    Recognizing these signals gives you time to slow the situation down, create distance, or help the dog settle before the behavior escalates.

    Learning to recognize those early signs has become one of the most valuable skills I’ve developed as a foster parent.

    How Routine Can Help Dogs Feel More Stable

    Structure and routine can help reduce uncertainty during the adjustment process.

    When a dog begins to understand:

    • where they belong
    • when they eat
    • when they walk
    • and what is expected of them

    the uncertainty around them may begin to decrease.

    As that uncertainty decreases, some reactive or defensive behaviors may begin to settle over time.

    Tools like:

    • crate training
    • consistent feeding routines
    • structured walks

    help create predictability during the early stages of adjustment.

    After a few weeks or months, I see them begin showing a more playful, affectionate, and relaxed side of their personality. Dogs who didn’t show interest in walks may take a few weeks of routine before showing excitement at the sight of the leash or hearing the word “walk.”

    Reflection

    What continues to stand out to me is how resilient these dogs can be. I’ve seen dogs arrive fearful, withdrawn, unsure, or defensive, only to slowly become more confident and comfortable with patience, structure, and consistency.

    Through fostering, I’ve learned that rescue dogs come from many different backgrounds, often carrying some level of stress or trauma into a new environment. Even dogs that come from an owner surrender may experience confusion from sudden change, unfamiliar surroundings, or entering a shelter for the first time.

    One of several rewarding parts of fostering dogs is seeing the changes in behavior. The timid dog that walked into your home the first day will show you their true side once they’re ready. It may happen through small moments or all at once, but those moments have given me memories that continue to stay with me long after the foster journey ends.

    Related reading:

    Disclaimer

    This article is based on personal experience, observations, and general research. It is intended for informational purposes only and is not a substitute for professional veterinary, medical, training, or behavioral advice. Always consult a qualified professional regarding concerns specific to your dog.

  • Why Rescue Dogs Benefit from Structure and Routine

    When a rescue dog first arrives in a new home, everything is unfamiliar.

    A new environment.
    New people.
    New expectations.

    Without structure, that uncertainty can quickly turn into stress, confusion, or unwanted behavior.

    Through fostering, I’ve learned that structure and routine are some of the most important tools for helping a rescue dog feel and adjust successfully.

    The First Day Sets the Tone

    The first day is not about giving the dog full freedom or overwhelming them with affection.

    It’s about creating a controlled and predictable environment.

    When a new dog arrives, my focus stays on observation, structure, and safety. I begin by walking the dog so I can understand their behavior before fully integrating them into the home.

    Starting with the Walk

    The first walk is where I begin assessing the dog.

    During that walk, I pay attention to:

    • how they respond to the leash
    • their level of excitement
    • how easily they follow direction
    • how they react to their surroundings

    Early on, I limit excessive sniffing. The goal at this stage is not full exploration, but understanding how the dog responds to guidance.

    If needed, I work with the dog one-on-one before introducing them to the rest of the pack.

    Introducing Structure Early

    Once the walk is complete, structure continues inside the home.

    When bringing a new dog inside, I first assess how stable they appear before allowing interaction with the rest of the pack. If the dog seems unsure or overly stimulated, I have my resident dog stay outside or in another room while I place the new dog in the crate.

    Some dogs are stable enough to have brief sniffing interactions, but even then, those moments are kept short. Many dogs go to the crate shortly after arrival so they can begin settling into the routine.

    In the early stages, I often keep the dog on a leash indoors. This allows me to guide their movement and maintain control while they learn the environment.

    This approach helps prevent common early issues such as:

    • marking inside the home
    • unwanted interactions with order dogs
    • overstimulation

    At this stage, the dog is still learning boundaries, and structure helps them feel more secure.

    Feeding Routine and Boundaries

    Meal time is another important part of structure.

    I feed the rescue dog in the crate to create a controlled and safe environment. If I don’t know the dog’s history, I approach feeding with awareness, keeping in mind there may be food sensitivities or food-related behaviors.

    Not every dog adjusts to feeding in a crate immediately, so this stage sometimes requires patience and small adjustments depending on the dog’s comfort level.

    I typically feed the existing pack first and the rescue dog last so I can focus fully on their behavior. With consistency, I may begin conditioning the dog to wait calmly before eating, depending on their progress.

    Some dogs learn quickly. Others take more time.

    Consistency matters more than speed.

    Crate Time Is Part of the Routine

    Crate time plays a major role in helping a dog decompress and feel safe in a new environment. One thing I’ve learned through fostering is that crate size plays a larger role in a dog’s adjustment than I initially expected.

    A crate that is too small can make a dog feel confined, while a crate that is too large can create other challenges. Some dogs become restless, pace inside the crate, or struggle to settle because the space doesn’t feel balanced.

    Finding the right size helps create a comfortable environment where the dog can relax, feel secure, and begin adjusting to the routine of the home.

    After meals, I take the dog outside to potty and then return them to the crate. This creates a predictable rhythm that the dog begins to recognize as part of their daily routine.

    Any time the dog comes out of the crate, I take them outside first. This helps the dog learn that outside is where they go to potty, rather than leaving the crate and wandering indoors where accidents are more likely to happen.

    I’ve had some dogs resist crate time in the beginning, especially if they are unfamiliar with what is expected or with confinement. Patience and consistency help them understand that the crate is a safe place to rest, not a punishment.

    Another important part of crate routine is bringing the dog out in a calm mindset. If a dog is barking, whining, or overly excited, releasing them at that moment can lead to problems.

    Early in my fostering journey, I released a rescue dog from the crate before they were fully calm. As my resident dog walked by, the rescue lunged. Fortunately, I was able to prevent the situation from escalating, but it taught me the importance of slowing down and paying attention to a dog’s mindset before opening the crate.

    Since then, I’ve become more intentional about managing those moments. Depending on the dog, I may use my body as a barrier, create distance, or separate the dogs entirely until everyone is calm.

    At night, I try to keep the routine as consistent as possible. After dinner, the dog goes outside for a potty break before returning to the crate. Depending on when dinner is served, I may take them out for one final potty break later in the evening before settling them in for the night. Using a crate cover can help reduce stimulation and create a calmer environment for sleep.

    Adjusting to Crate Time

    Not every dog settles into crate time immediately. I’ve had some dogs whine, bark, or struggle with the routine in the beginning as they adjusted to a new environment.

    One foster taught me an important lesson about crate setup. She had been placed in a crate that was too small due to an urgent rescue. She loved to wag her tail, and the limited space caused her tail to repeatedly hit the sides of the crate until it began to bleed.

    Once I provided a properly sized crate, she had enough room to settle more comfortably. Experiences like that reminded me that every dog is different, and sometimes small adjustments can make a significant difference in their comfort.

    Another rescue taught me a different lesson about crate management. This dog had a great deal of energy and struggled to settle in the crate during the early stages of decompression.

    He would clamp down on the crate wires and shake the crate as hard as he could. Watching him do that exposed a weakness I hadn’t considered before. I realized the crate could potentially collapse if enough pressure was applied to certain areas.

    To reinforce the crate, I added zip ties to several connection points. The extra reinforcement helped create a safer setup while the dog continued learning how to settle and relax inside the crate.

    Why Structure Helps Dogs Relax

    In my experience, structure helps reduce some of the uncertainty that rescue dogs face when adjusting to a new environment.

    When a dog begins to understand:

    • where they go
    • when they eat
    • when they walk
    • and where they rest

    As the routine becomes familiar, I often notice dogs becoming more comfortable with their surroundings.

    This is when noticeable changes begin to happen.

    The dog becomes:

    • calmer
    • more trusting
    • showing more relaxed body language

    You may notice the dog resting more comfortably, responding to guidance more easily, and showing fewer signs of stress as the routine becomes familiar.

    I’ve learned that structure is not about restricting a dog. It’s about creating a stable environment where they can relax, learn, and adjust to their new surroundings.

    Reflection

    Through fostering, I’ve learned that structure is not about limiting a dog. It’s about supporting them as they adjust to a new environment.

    In my experience, the dogs that improve the most are the ones given consistency, guidance, and time.

    Helping a rescue dog learn structure is not about rushing results. It’s about building trust step by step and allowing them to settle into a life that finally feels predictable.

    Progress happens gradually, not instantly. In many cases, those small improvements become the foundation that helps a dog adjust more successfully to the next chapter of their journey.

    Related reading:

    Disclaimer

    This article is based on personal experience, observations, and general research. It is intended for informational purposes only and is not a substitute for professional veterinary, medical, training, or behavioral advice. Always consult a qualified professional regarding concerns specific to your dog.

  • Understanding Dog Body Language on Walks

    One of the most valuable skills a dog handler can develop is learning how to read a dog’s body language.

    Dogs communicate constantly through posture, movement, and subtle physical changes. When we begin to understand those signals, it becomes easier to respond before a situation grows into something more difficult.

    I learned this through experience when a rescue dog suddenly jolted in one direction after something caught their attention. Moments like that taught me how sensitive dogs can be to stimulation and how quickly situations can change. Every dog communicates differently, and learning their language becomes an important part of keeping them safe during walks.

    Understanding Raised Hackles

    One signal I pay attention to during walks is when a dog’s fur rises along the back.
     
    This reaction is called raised hackles, or piloerection. It happens when the hair along a dog’s spine, shoulders, or tail stands up.
     
    Raised hackles do not automatically mean aggression.
     
    They usually indicate that the dog is experiencing a heightened emotional state, such as:

    • excitement
    • fear
    • uncertainty
    • alertness

    What matters most is what happens after that signal appears.

    The dog’s next movement often tells you whether the situation is calming down or building toward a reaction.

    It’s good to know these signals for any dog under your care, whether it’s your resident dog or a foster. Raised hackles are often one of the easier signals to notice because the fur rises quickly, and you can sometimes see it lower again as the dog begins to calm.

    With short-haired dogs, the signal may appear as a thin raised line along the back rather than a full patch of raised fur. In dogs with very little hair, other body signals become more important to watch.

    Still, hackles are only one part of the conversation. Other parts of the body are communicating at the same time.

    What Raised Hackles Can Lead To

    When a dog’s hackles rise, they have entered a heightened state of awareness.

    At this point, the dog may begin to:

    • focus intensely on something
    • slow down or stiffen
    • become less responsive to guidance
    • prepare to react

    If the handler does not recognize the signal, the behavior can build.

    That reaction may show up as:

    • barking
    • lunging
    • charging toward the source of focus

    Recognizing those early signals allows you to step in sooner and guide the dog before the situation becomes harder to manage.

    A Real Example From a Walk

    I was reminded recently how quickly a situation can change during a walk.

    I was walking a pack of four dogs with my daughter when we passed a property where dogs were barking behind a gate. My pack remained calm as we moved along the sidewalk, and their body language didn’t show signs of concern.

    Just as we were clearing the property line, there was a loud bang. A husky broke through the gate and charged directly toward us.

    My small senior dog, who usually walks just behind me, became the focus of the attack. The husky clamped down, and my dog yelped loudly.

    I reacted immediately. I stepped forward, yelled, and moved toward the dog to stop the attack. The husky released my dog and ran back toward the gate while I stayed positioned between my pack and the threat until the gate was secured.

    My daughter checked my senior pup for visible puncture wounds while I stayed alert to the situation around us. After we got home, I checked her carefully once again. Thankfully, there were no serious injuries. 

    Moments like this reinforced how important it is to stay aware of surroundings, not just the dogs in your care.

    Why Awareness Matters

    Reading body language allows you to respond earlier rather than reacting after the fact.

    Some things you can prepare for, and other things you learn to recognize through experience. For example, when dogs bark behind a fence, I pay attention to how they behave. Are they barking from a distance, or charging the fence and biting at it? Some dogs reach a point where their focus becomes intense, and their body language shows they are preparing to act.

    After a recent incident, I made an important adjustment to how I walk my pack. Now, when I hear barking behind a fence or gate, I look toward entry points and openings instead of focusing only on the path ahead. That small adjustment helps me make sure every dog behind me clears the area safely before I shift my attention forward again.

    On a later walk, I had to apply this awareness again. One dog in my pack became reactive to barking dogs behind a fence. I had the dog sit and refocused their attention on me. At the same time, I remained aware of the opening where a dog could charge through. That moment made me rethink how I position my pack during situations like that. I now try to keep the dogs facing away from the distraction while I stay in a position where I can monitor openings and respond if needed.

    Unexpected movement, sounds, or activity can quickly capture a dog’s attention, such as:

    • cats or squirrels moving suddenly
    • loud sanitation trucks performing their duties
    • unfamiliar sounds
    • delivery drivers or uniforms
    • unexpected movement in the environment

    Every dog responds differently, and part of handling dogs responsibly is learning what captures their attention.

    When you begin to recognize these signals, you may find yourself:

    • redirecting the dog’s focus
    • creating distance from a distraction
    • adjusting your position
    • guiding the dog back toward calmer behavior

    Awareness creates the opportunity to stay ahead of the situation. The earlier you notice the change, the easier it becomes to prevent escalation. 

    Staying Present During Walks

    Being calm during walks means being present.

    That means paying attention not only to the dogs, but also to the environment and the people around the pack. I pay close attention to how other dogs approach us because highly excited behavior, such as pulling, barking, or lunging, can quickly change the energy of the walk. Even friendly excitement can create tension and disrupt the balance of a calm pack.

    For example, my current foster does not respond well to highly excited dogs approaching him. Situations like that remind me that staying aware of other handlers and their dogs is just as important as watching my own.

    When space is limited, such as on a narrow sidewalk, I may have my pack sit or stand calmly to the side while others pass. My focus during those moments is not on what they are observing, but on their body language. I watch to see if they remain calm, break position, or begin preparing to react.

    If their focus shifts too strongly toward a distraction, I reposition them and guide their attention back to me. Sometimes that takes several minutes, and patience becomes important. I’ve learned that rushing those moments or becoming frustrated can shift my energy, and dogs often feel that change.

    With consistency, many dogs begin to understand that calm behavior is part of the routine.

    Reflection

    Dogs communicate constantly during walks, even when we may not recognize the signals right away.

    Learning to notice small changes in posture, focus, and movement takes patience and experience. Each walk becomes an opportunity to better understand how a dog responds to the world around them.

    Through my own experiences, I’ve learned that awareness makes a meaningful difference. Paying attention to early signs gives me the opportunity to guide the dog before a situation begins to escalate.

    Moments like the recent incident reminded me how quickly things can change and how important it is to stay present, aware, and ready to respond.

    With practice, those moments of awareness begin to build confidence, not just for the dog, but for the person holding the leash.

    Related reading:

    Disclaimer

    This article is based on personal experience, observations, and general research. It is intended for informational purposes only and is not a substitute for professional veterinary, medical, training, or behavioral advice. Always consult a qualified professional regarding concerns specific to your dog.