Besides being on the Board you are also the Rescue's Intake Coordinator. Can you tell us what that involves?  It's about getting the dog and getting all the information pertaining to that dog: personality/temperament, socialized with other dogs, medical matters, vaccines, spay/neuter, general health, everything that helps us help the dog.  Entry vet exams are done, setting up needed surgeries.  Pictures have to be taken, not only for identification, but for their page on the website.   All paperwork needs to get to the right person, then calling the placement team who starts searching for the right home.  Each dog that comes in adds up to about 6 hours of work. 

Owner surrender is one type of intake, what are some others?  Sadly, too may Goldens are turned in to  shelters. We've had calls from veterinarian hospitals because owners have dropped off their injured dog and abandoned them.  Then there's the stray no one claims. Most of these dogs are in less than ideal condition, many looking very neglected and sometimes abused.

That's got to be a tough job emotionally. Do you do anything to prepare yourself before an intake?   It's a job; I just do it. I've learned over the years to keep emotion out of it while doing the intake.  I put on my stone face; you can't let on how angry or upset you are by the condition of the dog.  Sometimes I think I could qualify for an Academy Award. Then there's the other side of the coin; the people who really love their dogs and just can't keep them. Sometimes a family has lost everything, or there's been a death of a spouse and the dog is alone 12 hours a day. Good people realize that this isn't fair to their dog, so they call us. When they say goodbye to a loved family pet of many years, that's really hard.   I have  great support in the gals I work with.  I call them  to vent, to release frustration, and share joy. I get support from my husband.  He's got a strong shoulder!

Our dogs talk. John and I give them their voices, but it's definitely them directing the speech. It started over twenty years ago with our first dog, Boo, a Scottie/Westie mix. He was born and bred here in Las Vegas, yet he had a Scots highland accent and a no nonsense Scottish attitude. Boo would demand of me, "aye therrrre woman...how 'bout gett'n me ma dinner!" My husband would give Boo a voice, rolling R's and all, but the demand was all Boo. I also understood that this was a subtle hint that my family was hungry, too. On the weekend Boo might comment to his human Dad "ach therrre laddie, don't ye think that grass is gett'n a wee bit long?" Dutifully, John would get out the mower. After all, it was Boo pointing this out and not a nagging wife.

Over the years all our Retrievers have had voices, too. Our current pack is no exception. Quinn, the big male, has a low voice with a sort of "California dud" inflection. Annie, who is young, cute and vivacious, has a voice to match. Annie is smart, too, and knows how to use her charms. "Daddy, look at me Daddy! Pet me Daddy," she throws in a cheeky tail wag for good measure. "Now toss the ball for me Daddy!" "Daddy" inevitably obliges.   Annie is also good at correcting her mother's faults. "Mommy, you're not really going to ask me to  get in that dirty car, are you Mommy? I'm a princess; it's humiliating." "Mommy" takes the hint and is off to the car wash, not feeling the least bit scolded by "Daddy", because, after all, it was Annie who made the complaint.

Millie, our timid, gentle soul, whispers. It took us a long time to hear her voice. She is a true Buddha of a dog. She practices brevity and truth in her speech. She wakes us very early each morning, full of delight at the prospect of another day. She whispers into our sleeping faces "I am here...we are together....let's have breakfast." Thump, thump, thump goes her tail against the bed. After eating she goes into the garden for her morning meditation. Millie talks much more to other creatures than to us. She has recently befriended a hummingbird. We call him "The Specialist" because he hunts for gnats down in our lawn, not higher up as do most of the hummingbirds. The Specialist has worked out that when Millie lies on the grass, the bugs will try to escape. He plucks them up from all around her. Mille keeps so still that often only her eyes move. She whispers to him, "Brother hummingbird, may your hunt be fruitful." He bobs and buzzes around her and replies; "Thank you my large, beautiful friend." Did I mention that some of our garden creatures have voices, too?

Samantha

Samantha, our fourteen year old permanent foster, joined us nearly two months ago. We were worried about her comfort, mobility and state of mind. Poor thing, she would look up at us with those round, watery old eyes. All we could do was pet her and coax her into eating and going outside. Quinn, Millie and Annie sniffed her respectfully, then left her to settle in in her own good time. She had been here about a week when Quinn started bathing her face, his version of "you're one of us  now."  We put paw pads on her hind feet. Sure enough that helped with her mobility and gave her confidence. Samantha started coming up and down the stairs on her own, quite full of herself at this achievement. Then she started to take a great interest in the garden, just shuffling along. Next came stealing tennis balls from Annie, demanding cookies on behalf of the whole pack, and learning from Quinn about the wonders that come out of the rice cooker. And that was when we heard her voice..... she is  the Dowager  Duchess of Grantham! Yep, Maggie Smith's imperious tone and cutting wit. "Whell, my dear," superior British accent reverberating, "if you can't get that rice out at a brisker pace, we shall have to provide you with some assistance!" If Samantha had a gold handled cane, she would definitely be tapping the floor with it. We have started referring to her as "my lady". We hope she thinks of us as Mom and Dad, but I suspect we are the cook and the butler, and that's just fine with us.