I love animals. As a part of nature and in their relationships with humans, they really are a beauty. It has been a long-time belief that dogs, for instance, can relieve our stress and anxiety. The companionship is so grand in scale that they have deemed the title “Man’s Best Friend.” I had a wonderful companion throughout my developmental years; a dog that kept me warm in the winter and licked away my tears. This was a dog that I proudly walked beside through the neighborhood. He was an eighty-pound Doberman Pinscher (Name: Storm). He loved to run, do tricks for treats, rest his head on your hand and lay next to you in bed. Yes, the kind of dog that had his own pillow and required a wake-up call every morning. Unfortunately, I have to describe him in past tense, something that I am still coming to grips with since late 2007. At that time, my father (his closest buddy) started making an extra effort to help other dogs like Storm. Not only were these dogs great companions and in need of a family, they were all Dobermans! Every week he came to me with stories of new dogs with different backgrounds, dogs who were dealt an unfortunate hand. Through Doberman Rescue of North Texas, he has fostered a few dogs, some with delicate health and some unbreakable. Each of them were a delight to meet.

It was a week ago, moving in with my father, I realized the impact that fostering has on a dog. As a temporary solution before I move into a new apartment, I didn’t think this living situation would leave me with anything more than a place to rest my head at night. I did indeed rest my head, and next to me was this frail Doberman with the frame of a skeleton but the spirit of a lion. He curled up in my arms, looked at me for a few seconds and fell asleep, Newly-named Heinz, he was far from being subjected to malnutrition in this home. And every time I look into his eyes, I can see how happy he is with this restored quality of life. It was at this moment that I understood why my father became a foster parent. I then started to crave more fulfillment. Call me selfish or call me silly, I wanted to go to the Doberman Rescue myself so that I could finally see where my dad spent his free time.

Beyond the beautiful dogs, I also met the resident sheep (they answer “baaaaa” when you call them by name), zebra, horses and humans of this hidden place in Grand Prairie, Texas. Everyone was warm and welcoming and eager to introduce me to the ways of Dobermanland. Every Sunday, volunteers gather to clean the kennels, build new play areas, work as handymen (-women), socialize the dogs, and an endless number of tasks that rotate as time goes on. By the time the sun starts to set, everyone gathers around the kitchen to prepare for a big dinner (dogs allowed). My heart has never felt so full of animal love. This puts petting-zoos to shame. If you love animals, foster one. Not only do they need help, they need hope.

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