I've been a failed foster before. This time doubly so. I picked up baby Oona and Orson in Corbin KY; they were coming from a kill shelter near Lexington and had been through a lot. They were found as abandoned, walking skeletons and later became very sick with pneumonia. They stayed at the shelter for two months or so as a neglect case was pending.

English Coonhounds (redticks) being my weakness I knew it would be hard on me fostering. I promised myself I wouldn't get attached and hoped they would be adopted very quickly so I wouldn't get attached. That didn't happen. And I did get attached, very attached. Long story short, after all they went through, I just couldn't bring myself to separate them. I was glad I could do that for them. Orson sure does like his sis.

They got their dog park membership and of course they love it. They can't keep up with Tilda, no dog at the dog park can. I've had a heck of time house training Orson. That boy just could not wrap his mind around the concept of peeing outside. Thus he was wearing his puppy panties (belly band) and I think people calling them "panties" changed his outlook. He's graduated from sleeping in his crate at night and within the last month he's officially housetrained. A big "Whew!"

My gang really love each other and are always having fun. I thought it would be really hard having four hounds. It's really not. So now we have Ninny Sprinkles, Tilda Sprinkles, Oona Sprinkles and Orson Sprinkles. My sprinkles.

Salem