Foster Family

Taking in foster dogs can be a complex activity.  It probably appears simple to the casual observer - a local rescue group arranges for the inbound transfer of surrendered or stray pets from a shelter (often out-of-state) that can't observe a no-kill policy due to over-population and under-adoption.  The rescue operation may or may not have any physical facilities, but depends on local foster homes willing to take in the rescued animals and care for them until they are adoptable - and adopted.

This care of course always includes the basics of survival, but also a variety other needs must be met.  I have always specialized in the adult females - often momma dogs recently seperated from puppies they were brought in with.  The puppies are easy to adopt out.  Their mommas, with saggy teats, often emaciated torsos and ratty fur, and various amounts of emotional baggage (just like us!) are not so immediately irresistible.  They are often timid or untrusting of human kindness and unfamiliar with good house manners.  In addition to physical rehabilitation, and possible medical care, the foster people must assess the current state of the dog (beyond what is known by the rescue crew and releasing shelter - usually not much) so they know what needs work, and what information to pass along to potential adopters.  Does she need confidence/trust building?  Know how to sit for a treat?  Wait to be taken outside to go potty?  Walk on a leash?  How will she react to the presence of other dogs?  Kids?  Men?  Women?  Riding in a car?  Is she a counter surfer (looking for snatchable food when unsupervised)?  Suffer from seperation anxiety?  Tolerate being in a crate?  Photos must be taken to show her at her best, to illustrate adoption listings on the Internet.

Lap time.

The current dog we are fostering represents the greatest challenge of all.  She is absolutely adorable, with almost no faults.  She is eager to show and receive affection, doesn't bark or smell funny, has fur like a sable or mink, seems gentle with all she encounters, and is just small enough to occupy a lap now and then (often accomplished by a flying leap).  She hangs out in her crate willingly, but shows ecstatic appreciation for walks and even visits to the back yard.  Or moving from one room to the other, following at the feet of her newly adored caretakers for that matter.

Her name is Annabelle, and she is among the best, sweetest nap dogs ever.  You really couldn't awake being nuzzled by a cuter beast, with her inviting belly waiting to be scratched. 

"How do you give them up?", people ask.  "I could never do that!", they say.  Well, it isn't easy.  Many who try fostering end up with 'failed fosters' they hadn't intended to adopt - it is a risk.  There have been at least a half dozen among the twenty we have fostered that had me agonizing over the prospect of releasing them to adoption homes.  And people often mistakenly think they are being helpful to suggest ecouragingly, "Oh, you should keep her!" What makes it tolerable, then?  Finding for them a better home than I could provide, generally.  I don't know at this point if I might work full time again, or relocate to another country for some period of time.  Such things are challenging enough for me at this point that in order for the coming changes to occur I feel I can't really afford the additional distraction and responsibility of being the permanent guardian of a dog that I am in love with.  I don't want to work full time leaving a dog home alone for ten hours at a time, and while others relocate internationally with their pets, I would probably experience too much anxiety about the process.  I also have a pretty poor track record of making wise choices about what to do with my life in recent years, leading to continual uncertainty.  If another family can provide a great space, stability, loving attention, one or more dog or child playmates, then I can feel that the benefits for the dog and the adopting family are multiplied, and my own ultimate reward is greater in surrendering to them the devotion and unconditional love that quickly develops and flows from these grateful fosters. 

I also hesitate to take on the lifelong commitment for maintaining the emotional and physical well-being of these innocent, dependent little beings.  I enjoyed the lifetime companionship of  two (dog) girls over twenty-five years, and I find myself going through a spell right now of wanting minimal responsibility.  There are also times when I feel barely up to the task emotionally of caring for myself, such is the power of post-mid-life angst these days, with all the uncertainty about the path forward and remorse over past mis-steps

So off little Annabelle will go tomorrow, hopefully to enjoy a fabulous life with her new family of two responsible adults and their four charming and dog-craving children.  They called, then came over to visit a few days ago and spent a considerable amount of time getting acquainted with Annabelle, who was but one of several dogs they checked out. "Who are the dog lovers?",  I asked the two older boys and two younger girls - I think all their hands shot up.  Their previous dog died in December, and they are ready to open their home and their hearts to little Annabelle, who clearly won them over from their first meeting.  It was wonderful to see how much the girls and boys (and parents) enjoyed interacting with her, and how well Annabelle recieved their attention.  I really appreciated how much thought and effort they put into the adoption process.  The kids are home-schooled, so there will be someone around the house most of the time.  With any luck at all they will collectively experience many years of the joyous experience enjoyed only by those who adopt these unique little creatures of mixed ancestry.

I know there are innumerable rescue dogs waiting for their chance at a better life if I can find the time and strength to continue repeating this process, and when the right time arrives, there will be a very special dog waiting for and needing me to share her life beyond foster care.

 

Health Care or Health Scare

While it might not seem directly related to my blog theme of the exploration of Mexican ex-pat life, health care is a poweful motivator and worrisome issue - especially for those who are early-retired and without some sort of sponsored or subsidised coverage.   I suspect a significant portion of the Mexican ex-pat population from the U.S. was influenced in their relocation choice by this issue.

For now, just a few links here that provide context so I can easily refer back to a single location for discussion of this topic.  Perhaps over time I'll come back and refine this reference.

My essential position:  We need single-payer health care like every other advanced western country on the planet.  They all get much better outcomes (like longer life span with better health) at a fraction of the cost of our current dismal U.S. system, where horrific high premiums go largely to wasteful things like tens of millions in executive salaries (within a single company) feeding into 30% or so overhead for billing, marketing, and administrative costs.  There is a national movement to make this happen.  The OECD has a good summary of our inferior current arrangement.  The Affordable Care Act (Obamacare) is a poor substitute for a national single-payer system.

A number of those leaving the U.S. for life in Mexico and elsewhere are in part seeking a better opportunity to maintain their health without ruinous expense.  In addition to affordability, the way care is accessed and the resultant process and outcomes can be vastly superior and more sensible.  Much fewer unwarranted tests and interventions, and a more humane interface to the system are likely.  Aversion to exposure to the crushing expense (for those with unsponsored, high deductible, or non-existent coverage) and byzantine processes of the U.S. system can keep U.S. residents from receiving early or preventive care that may be life-saving or prolonging.

If I have a health care concern here in the U.S., and would like to get in to see a doctor, it is likely a difficult thing to schedule, and there will be reams of paperwork on arrival.  It will likely cost hundreds of dollars no matter how small the complaint, and it will not be covered by my high-deduction overpriced policy.  I will expect to be under-served and treated badly by the staff, and assume the treatment I receive and outcome will probably be largely determined by profit and legal liability concerns of  the practioner's office.  If I see a doctor at all, it will probably be for five or ten minutes - just as likely I will be seen by a physician's assistant (but still billed a high dollar amount).  Weeks or months later, I will receive complex explanation of benefit paperwork (required to track my high deductible) from the insurance company that shows my ultimate charges by the doctor office.

In Mexico, if I had a concern, I would make an appointment (with a specialist M.D. if I thought it appropriate) probably for the same or next day, and the cost would be around $25, cash.  With a minimum of paperwork, I would see the doctor for maybe a half hour to an hour, while a proper assessment of my situation was accomplished.  At the conclusion of our appointment, the doctor would hand me a card with his or her cell phone number and an invitation to use it.  They would probably be available to visit my home for a followup if I did not feel well enough to return to their office later.  I would pay for this inexpensive visit out of pocket.  If a more serious condition was revealed, I might have to use either affordable private major medical insurance, or one of two very inexpexpensive national health care programs that are open to ex-pats.

Mexican hospitals and physician offices may appear to be modest, with plastic resin chairs in the waiting area and peeling or scuffed paint on the walls, while U.S. facilities often resemble lavish exotic resort hotels or spas.  I would rather pay for my care, rather than prestige facilties that establish and enhance an elite rarefied atmosphere for the U.S. un-wellness industry and its denizens.

If I had only a minor concern in a Mexican village or city, I might just go a nearby pharmacy clinic for three or four dollars and see a doctor for a few minutes, and walk away with a prescription medication (if indicated), although no actual prescription is required at the pharmacy counter for most medicines. 

Mexican pharmacy clinic - $30mxn equals about $2.50 USD 

For those willing to self-diagnose and medicate this no-prescription policy can be very helpful.  Years ago I experienced a minor problem with my eyelid a few times.  Treating it required a prescription anti-bacterial ointment used for several days.  In the U.S., I would have to make a $175 appointment with a doctor to have him (or his PA) look at the eye, then write the prescription.  Maybe another $20 to fill the prescription.  In Mexico, I would simply go to a pharmacy and buy over the counter for maybe $5-10.  I should note that one doctor wanted to do a fairly invasive surgical remedy, which I declined, and proved to be entirely unnecessary.

Finally, on another note, there is the issue of end-of-life care.  Perhaps a subject for another discussion, for now I will post a link to an excellent article.  I think it is reasonable to assume that Mexico would be instinctively, practically, and culturally more inclined to provide the more sensible and humane exit from an incurable or hopeless situation that many of us may one day have to deal with.

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Catching up this morning with a wonderful blog from rural San Miguel de Allende, this story grabbed me emotionally and triggered that level of sadness that only a story of dog suffering or passing seems to evoke.  I've lost several of my own, and we are a serial foster home for local rescue.

Chucha Comes Limping Home

One of my hesitations about relocation to Mexico is the alarm and dismay with which I regard the various callejeros (street dogs, or their more rural campo dog cousins) encountered in everyday life.  The challenges and deprivation they deal with is often evident from their appearance or behavior.

I recall earlier posts mentioning Chucha, and the affection I felt for her on reading them. This update is a sad closing chapter.  RIP old girl...  

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