My home is under attack. Ants invaded the
house last month. Thousands of them appeared from under a skirting board in the
hall. The teenagers are on their mad
three-month summer break and were no help whatsoever. They ran to their rooms
screaming, leaving me to sort the problem out. I scratched at imaginary ants on
my head, then my arms, then at my legs. I was turning into my own horror movie.
I needed chemicals.
Ants greeted me at the front door when I
returned empty handed from the shops. The chemical Ant Killing sprays and
powders had sold out. The whole county must have been under ant attack too. So I
Googled my problem and an eco friendlier solution came up: Cinnamon. Luckily I
had loads of it left over from Christmas and the mulled wine that I never got
around to making.
Two and a half tubs of the ground spice later
and to my total and utter amazement, the ants disappeared. It turns out that they
really do hate cinnamon. They are not the only ones. “What’s that smell?” my
husband said when he came through the door. The house smelt like one big a
Yankee candle. “Ants. We have an invasion,” I informed him with a peg on my
nose. The cinnamon was making me sneeze.
I continued to shake cinnamon on the floor
right by his feet when he dropped the bombshell. “Have you ever thought about fostering?”
“You cannot be SERIOUS?” I replied, but he was serious. Fostering? That’s for
compassionate grown ups that have time and emotional maturity in equal
measures. That rules me out.
At that moment, we had a house full of ants,
teenagers locked in their bedrooms and I have the menopause knocking at my door
with a bag load of HRT. I have had never thought about fostering but have been
dreaming about moving to Greece. I want to spend the last fifty years of my
life ant-free, surrounded by sun, sea and cheap wine. Fostering had never, ever
entered my mind.
“What
about the kids?” I panicked. “They’ll get jealous. We’d have less time for them.”
So, because he is emotionally mature and I am easily persuaded, we talked it
through with the children “YES YES YES!” was the eldest response. “It will be
so much fun” was the youngest. That was that. We had their approval. My husband
made the phone call and started the ball rolling.
Very soon we were interviewed and home
checked. It didn’t take long at all. Two days later they arrived and we became
foster carers. We took in more than one; there were four of them in total. Four adorable little black and white puppies
came to live with us for a fortnight.
When the KWWSPCA opened an animal rescue
centre five minutes from our home it was only a matter of time before we got
involved. We are doggy people. We have doggy mugs, doggy t-shirts a very
generous doggy mad Granny.
Thanks to Super-Gran, our dogs have
t-shirts, jumpers and winter coats and would not look out of place in Beverly
Hills with their diamante leads and crystal collars. We even have a sign ‘Love
Me Love My Dog’ at the door. People tell me that I am even beginning to look
like one of my dogs. I take that as a compliment.
The KWWSPCA currently has over thirty dogs
looking for new homes. To lighten their load, they foster out animals whilst
new permanent homes are found. Too few people neuter their dogs despite calls
to do so from animal welfare groups. The result is an overwhelming amount of unwanted
dogs and puppies.
I am too soft and burst into tears when we
first went along to the new premises in Athgarvan. A dog had just been handed
into them, a cruelty case. A dog that had been in a puppy farm for years, in a
crate and didn’t even know how to walk. His back legs were stiff and deformed
and his face was filled with sorrow.
“Why are you crying?” the KWWSPCA manager,
Laura, asked me. “Because it is so sad,” I sobbed into my sleeves. “But it’s
not sad. He is here now and we’ll find him a lovely home” Laura replied. A few
weeks of TLC from the volunteers at the animal sanctuary later his tail was up,
he was walking and was a totally different dog. He found his spirit, his forever
home and is now absolutely adored by his new owner.
The KWWSCPA relies on donations to rescue,
treat and re-home the animals that arrive at their door. Temporary fostering is
a win-win situation. It lightens the load at the sanctuary and means that
foster carers get to play with puppies for a few weeks until they are found a
permanent home.
“We need earplugs,” a very weary looking
husband said the day after our fostered puppies arrived. Then smallest, the runt of the litter went
missing. We found her hiding under a cupboard, asleep. Then the sparkiest one took
a shine to my scarves. She found a whole box of them and chewed, pulled and
dragged them around the house with me chasing after her.
Another puppy kept playing hide and seek in
the hedge whilst another kept making a beeline for the pond. After an hour of
chaos, the cuddled up together and slept, they slept for eighteen hours a day. Fostering
puppies is just like having four hilarious, cuddly toddlers in the house. They
have literally filled our hearts and house with joy. For two weeks, all of us
have loved every minute, even the three times a day slopping out.
Thanks to the KWWSPA’s Facebook page, each
puppy has been re-homed and we shall be taking more in soon. If you are thinking
about getting a dog, don’t think twice. Get involved and foster or adopt one. To
quote a wise woman, “Whoever said diamonds are a girls best friend never had a
dog”.
Please 'LIKE' and 'SHARE' this wonderful organisation's Facebook page and help find homes today:
https://www.facebook.com/KWWSPCA?fref=ts
https://www.facebook.com/KWWSPCA?fref=ts
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