ALL THINGS ELGIN
My Favorite Foster
TEDDY
A Heart of Gold
By Dolores Haisler
My husband Jim and I started volunteering at the Bastrop County Animal Shelter about five years ago. At first, we walked the dogs three times a week—just trying to offer some love, sunshine, and attention to animals that had been through too much. Before long, we were fostering: first puppies, then mamas, and eventually any dog that needed a safe place to land between the shelter and a rescue. We’re still fostering to this day.
Sometimes we only have a dog for a couple of days. Other times, they stay for weeks or months. Some we hold until they’re transferred to another rescue. Every one of them has left a paw print on our hearts—but one in particular never left.
His name was Teddy
I first met Teddy while walking dogs at the shelter. He was terrified—paralyzed with fear in his kennel. It took two of us to carry him outside just so he could feel the sun on his back. He didn’t trust people, and he wouldn’t move on his own. But in that moment, I saw something in him.
I fell in love
Instead of putting him in our foster yard like we usually do, I brought Teddy straight into the house. It wasn’t a planned decision. It was instinct. He needed more than food and shelter—he needed peace.
Slowly, he started to come out of his shell. He watched everything from a cautious distance. He didn’t fully relax, but he was trying. We’d heard rumors about the abuse he and other dogs had suffered before arriving at the shelter—stories too awful to dwell on, but impossible to forget. All I could do was show him, day by day, that he was safe.
A few weeks later, the shelter called. A couple was interested in Teddy. They came out to meet him and took him for a short walk down our gravel driveway. I watched from the window as they made their way to the gate.
That’s when it happened
Teddy stopped. He turned around and looked back at the house—at me. And I swear, in that moment, he told me everything I needed to know. His eyes said it all.
“Please don’t let them take me. This is my home.”
The couple came back and said he seemed too shy, maybe not the right fit. But I already knew—Teddy had chosen us. He was no longer a foster. He was ours.
Teddy was only six years old when he died
As I write this, he’s been gone just a month. And my heart still aches like it happened yesterday.
He was my dog. I was his human. He camped with us, walked our neighborhood with us, curled up at my feet. He joined me for 5Ks and Jeep rides—always in the backseat first, then climbing up to the passenger side to look out the window like a little co-pilot.
Every meal I ate, he waited patiently. He knew I’d save a little bite, just for him. He learned to accept the steady flow of foster dogs through our home—barking at them at first, then making friends and zooming in the yard like a pup again.
He was a good boy. A good foster. A good soul.
I could write forever about Teddy, but no words will ever fully capture what he meant to me. He was unlike any dog we’ve ever had. He taught me about healing, trust, and unconditional love. And though he’s gone, he lives in our home—in our routines, our memories, and the little paw prints still worn into the dirt of our backyard.
I hope I’ll see him again someday
If you’re reading this and wondering if you could foster, please don’t wonder. Just do it. The Bastrop County Animal Shelter has countless dogs waiting for someone—anyone—to say yes. Some of them won’t make it without people like you. It’s not always easy. It’s emotional. But it matters more than you can imagine.
Visit
www.co.bastrop.tx.us/page/as.foster to learn more about how to become a foster. You might just meet your own Teddy. I did. And I’ll never be the same
The Elgin Chronicles
