The Ties That Bind

Being creative helps bring families together. And in this case, helps families stay together.

I’ve always enjoyed creating gifts for my family and friends. My craft closet is full of brightly colored fabrics, soft yarns and a wide variety of colored markers, among other tools of the trade. I handmake Christmas cards every year, using brightly colored cardstock, fun rubber stamps and unique materials. When a new baby joins the family, I make something heartfelt to mark the special occasion. I recently had the opportunity to mark eleven special occasions at once.

A few months ago, I fostered “Tate,” a very pregnant dog who was dumped at a shelter in a rural area of Tennessee. I had planned to foster another dog, but when this sweet girl came in minutes before the rescue van was headed to foster homes in Illinois, the rescue couldn’t say no to her. When I was asked if I could help her instead, I couldn’t say no either.

When I picked her up after her nine-hour van trip up north, the sight of her broke my heart. Her gorgeous caramel-colored eyes belied the signs of blatant neglect all over her body. She smelled like she had never been bathed. Her dull coat was filthy and brittle, her ears were oozing black liquid from a raging infection, and her long nails had never been trimmed. Her oversized, rounded belly and hanging skin indicated that she’d had several litters of puppies before and was days, perhaps hours, away from giving birth to yet another one. She was clearly so uncomfortable, but she looked into my eyes with a tired resignation that spoke to me. She looked at me as if to say, “I give up.” I knew then I would do everything I could to change that.

Before I brought Tate home, I set up a comfortable, safe space for her and loaded it with clean, soft blankets and towels. This was the first soft place she would ever land in her life. When I brought her into her new room, I could see the hesitation in her big, brown eyes. I held my breath as she circled and sniffed and finally carefully sat down with an audible, yet relieved, sigh. Her big, soulful eyes and broken body told a story that no dog should ever have to tell. After seeing her shy, sad demeanor, I was determined to make sure her next chapters would be full of love and happiness.

She had every reason to be afraid and distrusting of people, but after warily watching me bring her food, water and soft blankets, she began to relax. Soon she sought out attention and loved pressing her forehead to mine. When she rested her head against my chest, I rested my head on hers as if to say, “You’re going to be ok now, girl.” Watching her tail quiver, then fully wag, gave me indescribable joy.

The night after she arrived at my home, she gave birth to ten healthy, squirmy puppies. Mama immediately knew what to do. She cleaned them, examined them and protected them. If one wiggled away from the clan, she carefully and proudly carried it back to the puppy pile. She lovingly mothered them like she’d been doing this her whole life. And based on the condition of her body, she probably had been.

Over the next several weeks, I watched excitedly as these precious bundles of fur grew. I weighed each one on a food scale every day and marveled as they registered one pound, then quickly, two. Each day when I looked into their faces, I eagerly checked to see if their eyes were open yet. The days that I saw puppies curiously looking back at me are days I’ll never forget.

As their eyes opened around day ten, they learned to walk. I watched them start to interact with each other and learn to play. Their unsure, wobbly steps soon turned into confident sprints. Their bright, color-coded collars marked who was who, but as they grew, their individual personalities shone through. Some were feisty, some were calm; some were adventurous, some were reserved. All were adorable. Mom’s gentle corrections taught them right from wrong. My constant cuddling taught them what it was like to be loved.

Before long, it was time for them to go to their forever homes. The thought of each puppy going home by himself, without nine other siblings to share meals with, sleep on, and play with all day long was heartrending. However, knowing they’d all have families who loved them for the rest of their days was rewarding. I wanted to help ease the transition to their forever homes and give them a piece of their foster home to take with them.

Looking into my craft closet, I was inspired to make something for each puppy and for Mama Tate. I went to the fabric store and purchased several yards of blanket fleece. The salesperson at the cutting counter cut my material with such ease and precision, I asked her what kind of scissors she used. She walked me to the Fiskars display, where I selected a two pack of scissors designed to cut cloth. One pair had bright teal handles, while the handles on the other had a fun tie dye pattern. I loved them and couldn’t wait to work with them.

When I came home, I showed the scissors to my daughter, who loved the vivid colors and wanted to try them. We set up our crafting operation at the dining room table. We began cutting the fleece into large squares. I took one solid red square and paired it with another square with an adorable dog pattern. With squares back to back, we cut strips into the edges of both pieces of fleece. We tied the strips together to make blankets. Each satisfying, sharp “snip” of the scissors and every tight knot we tied brought us closer to tying this family together. We made eleven blankets, one for each puppy and one for mom. My new scissors made short work of it.

I took the blankets and put them in the puppies’ playpen. Then I put all the fluffy puppies on top of them to sleep. They all piled together on the blankets and slept soundly, one big pile of soft, multi-colored fur. When they woke up, I took the blankets and put them on Tate’s bed so she could sleep on them too.

On the day the dogs were adopted, I sent each one home with his very own homemade blanket. The fleecy fabric was bright, fuzzy and most importantly, smelled like their mom and siblings. This helped the puppies bring a little of their first family home with them. (All forever families have reported that their puppies sleep with their blankets every night.)

After ten weeks of constant companionship, loyalty, and cuddles, I adopted Tate. She shows me every day how grateful she is that I chose her. As she tucks her head under my chin every night, she reminds me that as much as I rescued her, she rescued me too.