MOM LOVES THE DOGS MORE CHAPTER BY CHAPTER

Raising teens nearly broke us. Rescue dogs helped save us. This memoir offers hope to parents and a powerful case for fostering—because it can rescue families, too.

Get your copy of Mom Loves the Dogs More anywhere books are sold, or become a paid subscriber to Like People, Like Pets for biweekly chapters and exclusive extras.

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NEWS BEFORE STORYTIME

ADHD & TEEN GIRLS

In my recent MOM!!! Moments Live interview with neurodivergent advocate Kristen McClure, MSW, LCSW, she wove her knowledge as an ADHD therapist into my experience as a parent to two ADHD teens to illuminate 1) why ADHD girls get missed, 2) what ADHD can look like in girls and 3) what actually helps ADHD girls. So much aligned with my experience as a parent, and I learned a great deal to pass along to others as I talk more about my memoir. Listen in and let us know your thoughts in the comments.

Like People, Like Pets

ADHD & Teen Girls: Live with Cindy Ojczyk & Kristen McClure

MOM Moments are monthly SubStack Live conversations between Cindy Ojczyk, author of Mom Loves the Dogs More, and an expert in parenting people and/or parenting pets. The goal of these MOM Moments is to provide listeners with knowledge and resources to create loving, enriching, and lasting relationships…

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3 days ago · 2 likes · 1 comment · Cindy Ojczyk and Kristen McClure

SMALL PAWS, BIG PURPOSE

Being asked to write a guest post for Chloe Ackerman and her wildly popular Dog Lover’s Guide newsletter was quite an honor. She has a gift for illuminating dog behaviors in a way that helps humans understand their own actions and improve their relationships. In the story I wrote for her readers, I discussed the importance of creating a family purpose to strengthen connection. Take a look and leave a comment. You’ll light up my day.

Chapter Six: Shelby

The anger in Lynda’s voice was all I needed to know the situation before us was dire. The owner of a puppy mill in north-central Minnesota had euthanized one thousand dogs in her quest to downsize her “designer puppy” breeding business. My eyes shut tight against Lynda’s words, holding back the image of the woman, a helper, perhaps a veterinarian, injecting each dog into silence, or worse, shooting them because it was cheaper.

A rescue agency in Duluth got wind of the cruelty and negotiated with the woman to end the killings. Rescue agencies and shelters around the state rallied in the depths of a January freeze to pitch in with hauling and housing the remaining 200 dogs. A Second Chance volunteer with a large delivery van was driving back from Duluth with 22 dogs for our agency. Anna, Mia, and I and a few volunteers hurriedly staged the large wraparound porch of a Victorian home in St. Paul with dog food, treats, training pads, leashes, and bowls hauled from the pet shed. Our goal was to have the supplies in place so we could quickly move dogs from the van into the warm cars of waiting foster folks lined front-end to back-bumper along the snowy street.

The somewhat festive mood from a gathering of people on a mission was quickly dampened when the van arrived. We were greeted by the stench of new vomit and old feces from filthy, fearful, uprooted dogs. One by one, the little carriers holding cowering dogs were brought to the porch. A gloved hand would carefully remove each straining dog so it could be identified and noted on a chart. Each was assigned a name, put back in the crate, and taken to a waiting car.

Almost all were small females around the age of four that’d spent their entire lives producing litter after litter of puppies for the pet trade market, while confined to tiny kennels stacked one on top of the other warehouse style, like factory-farm chickens. In fact, dogs in breeding facilities with more than four breeding females fall under the category of livestock per federal government regulations. Put simply: The same entity to whom I pay taxes labels companion animals as livestock. The regulation has minimal requirements for veterinary care and nutrition. Dogs and puppies from puppy mills do not live with blankets or beds to soften the space between wire and skin. There is no exercise for physical and mental health and no socialization with humans or other dogs.

“I can’t believe there are people who think this cruelty is an acceptable way to treat companion animals. All this for money,” I steamed through clenched teeth to Anna and Mia, equally wide-eyed and upset. Making matters worse was the knowledge that people willingly paid top dollar for her Schnoodles and Bichypoos and mini-Labradoodles, mixed breeds once labeled as mutts now elevated to designer dogs through marketing spin. It made me wonder if buyers knew, or cared, about the mother dog or their new family pet’s deplorable upbringings.

“Mom, it’ll be all right,” whispered Mia, watching my anger brewing. “There’s nothing more we can do but our part. At least these dogs will get a chance to sit on a lap.”

Who is this kid acting mature in my place? Her display of wisdom was a stark contrast to the evening before when we exchanged words over her lack of motivation.

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MOM LOVES THE DOGS MORE CHAPTER BY CHAPTER

Raising teens nearly broke us. Rescue dogs helped save us. This memoir offers hope to parents and a powerful case for fostering—because it can rescue families, too.

Purchase Mom Loves the Dogs More anywhere books are sold, or subscribe to Like People, Like Pets for biweekly chapters and exclusive extras.

NEWS FIRST…

PARENTING PAW-CAST

It may seem counterintuitive to add MORE to your parenting plate when raising teens. For my family, caring for rescue dogs was the in-home activity that kept our family together when a million other things threatened to pull us apart. Curious? Listen to my conversation with All My Children Wear Fur Coats Paw-cast host Peggy Hoyt.

ADHD & TEEN GIRLS

Mark you calendars for Saturday, 3/28, 11:00 am ET/10:00 am CT, for a conversation with therapist and neurodivergent advocate , MSW, LCSW. Kristen writes Flourish: A Newsletter , ADHD Advocate , and ADHD Kids, Affirmed

ADHD Kids, Affirmed

Tools and Tips for Neurodivergent Affirming Parenting

By Kristen McClure

to name a few of the newsletters she publishes to help parents help themselves and their kids. Join with this link.

Chapter 5: Snickers

“MOMMMMM!” shrieked Mia as she and her friend Olivia scuttled from their corner behind the Christmas tree. The two girls, deep in their imaginary world where Christmas ornaments became characters in elaborate plays, were startled to reality when the tree started rocking. I turned my head in time to see Poet bound out from beneath the lower branches, followed closely by Snickers, a ten-month-old Miniature Schnauzer puppy with impish eyes, both dogs short enough to barely disrupt a needle. Big Margo, the bull in the china shop and seven times the size of the little rascals, was in close pursuit of her nimble friends. Her pointy nose suddenly tangled in a string of lights. Her flowing tail wagged outrageously in delight, scattering ornaments to the floor, and filling the family room with the scent of musty forest and pine resin. Somehow she managed to free herself fast enough to catch the twosome turning the corner of the sectional to dash under the tree again.

“Stop!” I roared. Poet, Snickers, and Margo halted at once as if I’d touched them in a game of freeze tag. “Come on, Anna,” I implored loudly, “give me a hand.” Anna jumped from the sectional. We quickly corralled the rowdy friends, herding them through the garage to the service door, grabbing coats and mittens as we ran. It was a year of bountiful snow. The door had become a chute from which Anna and Joe had shoveled a thigh-deep, figure-eight raceway within a big oval. We opened the door and let the dogs run directly into the maze. Agile Poet led the pack. Fountains of fur sprouting from his Papillon ears were ironed straight by the wind. Snickers followed closely, nipping Poet’s white toes as they kicked up snow. Margo, a monochromatic blur of coal-black fur against a sparkling white background, lumbered behind with a wide smile and thunderous bark.

When they were amply exhausted, we confined the group to the coat room. After matted snow melted and paws dried, the dogs climbed onto the sectional to snuggle up to its occupants, expecting the humans to pay attention to the mischievous pair.

Snickers had been a weary pup when we brought him home from Life Care, cautiously approaching each of us—a methodical reckoning rather than the exuberant all-in we experienced with Margo and Betty. Poet, a lover of play, quickly teased Snickers from his guarded personality. In a matter of days, Snickers was following Poet like a little brother, tossing toys from the baskets, racing from window to window to yell at the squirrels, chasing Poet and Margo around the sectional. Snickers soon wore generous smiles. However, from the bedlam of those budding friendships rose an unwanted digression, and with it, my increasing demands on family members to keep watch over the pair.

Like a toddler who regresses when a sibling is introduced to the family, Poet took Snicker’s accidents as an invitation to abandon the skills we’d worked so hard to teach him. On day one when Snickers’ anxiety led to peeing on the wall, Poet lifted his leg to mark over Snickers. On day two when Snickers pooped in the corner after breakfast, Poet followed suit. Days three through seven were similar. I pulled the gallon of floor cleaner from the cabinet, the weight much greater from the exasperation that’d seeped in.

To make matters worse, it felt like I was doing the lion’s share of the work while my family members’ commitment to dogs and chores diminished with the rising spirit of the season; the cozy throws and crackling fireplace called them to them from the comfort of the sectional. I would get mad at the kids and Joe for not paying attention to the little dogs. They would get mad at me for getting mad at them. Tensions were rising. Holiday joy was fleeting. As I stood alone at the kitchen sink, hands immersed in warm, sudsy water, watching soft snow swirl under the pine trees, I caught a glimpse of tattered ferns. My mind was whisked back to the previous spring.

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MOM LOVES THE DOGS MORE CHAPTER BY CHAPTER

I’m sharing my story of raising challenging teens and the rescue dogs who helped hold us together to offer hope to other parents and to encourage pet fostering. Fostering saves lives and can even rescue families, like it did ours.

Readers can purchase Mom Loves the Dogs More: A Memoir of Family Rescue through their favorite retailer or become a paid subscriber of Like People, Like Pets. Paid subscribers will receive a biweekly release of chapters and bonus materials such as afterthoughts and images in their email inbox.

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AUDIO SHORT STORIES

One of the privileges of writing a book that features dogs is to hear rescue stories from other dog lovers. Many have been sharing them with me in my What’s Your Rescue Story journal I bring to book signings. Henny and Ava’s story was the first in my new audio series “Rescue Shorts.” Substacker and podcaster was kind enough to arrange a book signing for me at the Hounds & Tap near Milwaukee, Wisconsin.

MY MOST POPULAR SUBSTACK NOTE

It is nearly impossible to predict what image or video will capture the attention of browsers and scrollers. I took this video with my left hand because Farley would not let my right hand go. He is my neighbor’s cat. I had been caring for him in their absence.

Chapter Four – Betty

We were one month into our life with two foster failures when Lynda asked if we would take in ten-pound Betty. My resolve to make her our first foster win propelled my mouth to utter a quick “Yes.” It was through the juggling of fur and toys and floor cleaner and two wet dogs from a rainy November that helped me define my limits on the number of dogs I was willing to call permanent residents. Hell would have to freeze over before I would agree to fail again!

The waiting room temperature seemed to cool dramatically when Betty swaggered in from the back room of Life Care Animal Hospital. With a body shaped like a mini Snuka and fur thick and shimmering like polished onyx, Betty stood erect, scanning the room with sharp eyes and the confidence of a general. The vet knelt beside her, petting her sleek back. “She’s part Schipperke—bred for the role of watch dog on barges in Belgium. Her size may be small, but she’s mighty.” Betty had lost her home, lived a week in a shelter, and underwent surgery but showed no pain or fear.

Margo and Poet embraced their new friend with full gusto. The three musketeers spent their days emptying toy baskets, de-stuffing dog and cat toys, tugging on the end of knotted ropes. When bored, the two little dogs would pester Margo as if she were the kid stuck in the middle of the back seat on a long ride. They would jump at Margo’s mane where, for brief moments in time, Margo looked like she’d donned mismatched, tiny dog earrings. To rid herself of the little leeches, she’d shake her head madly, her bark echoing off the windows. Poet and Betty would eventually drop to the floor, replying in a percussion of yips and yaps and grrrs while they chased Margo around the sectional. Anna and Mia delighted in their revelry, their giggles barely audible above dog ruckus.

Those fleeting moments of carefree laughter made me pause in appreciation, for there were fewer and fewer cohesive moments among the growing angst. Mia’s attitude continued to be worrisome as the school year marched towards December. During parent-teacher conferences we heard about missing assignments, falling grades, and lack of participation in class.

When Joe and I asked Mia to present her side of the story, we got the “nothing” response. “There’s nothing to talk about, Mom.” “There’s nothing wrong at school, Dad.”

Our attempts to highlight her shortcomings as a means of motivation (refusal to get together with friends, failure to advocate for herself with teachers, sitting on the sectional rather than doing homework at the kitchen table, blah, blah, blah…) were met with more nothing. “I said nothing’s wrong and nothing’s what I mean,” sighed Mia as her eyes shifted upwards in her signature eye roll. Conversation over.

Joe and I knew better. We’d been teenagers once before. The nothing and the silence were both loaded with a whole lot of something. We just didn’t know what. Nor did we know how to engage a despondent Mia.

What I did know was tension was rising between me and Joe. We couldn’t agree on what to do with Mia’s changing behavior. While I had long been the overseer of kid activities and the writer of chores on the chore board, I began to worry about pushing Mia too hard.

Born when a summer haze softened the edges of a copper sun, she was quieter in physical endeavor than Anna but social as an Alaskan summer day is long. She’d always been our extrovert and relished the attention paid to her by her friends’ mothers. Would she fall from our nest with resentment and run to a different mother for comfort?

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Curly-haired Isabelle cowered in a kennel barely visible behind two signs she could not read but sealed her fate.

NO NOT HANDLE. DO NOT ADOPT.

Twelve years with one family had been reduced to solitary confinement: no soft blankets, no gentle hands. They said she’d become snippy and afraid she might bite.

Snickers arrived in my foster home and disappeared into his cat carrier for five weeks. He emerged only when I was out of sight—for food, water, and the litter box. When I tried to pet him, the orange tabby trembled, pressing himself against the hard plastic wall like it might save him.

My oldest daughter, Anna—sharp, capable, once an exceptional student—slowly unraveled. Grades slipped then plummeted. By sophomore year, she was failing high school and skipping classes. The dependable kid had become the classroom troublemaker.

My youngest daughter, Mia, equally bright and endlessly social, melted into our sectional, burrowing into cushions and the heartbeat of slumbering dogs. Completed school work sat forgotten in her locker, lost amid the chaos of passing periods and shrill bells.

Four stories. Four examples of behavior labeled bad.

Once something or someone is labeled bad, the conclusion comes quickly: the dog, the cat, the kid must be the problem.

If modern media and parenting norms were allowed to write the next scenes, Isabelle and Snickers would be fast-tracked for euthanasia, Anna would be suspended with all privileges revoked, and Mia would quietly fade into obscurity.

But when a parent choses to challenge the labeling systems that define “bad,” something powerful happens.

A single question can change everything: What is this behavior telling me?

Behavior is communication. Every growl, withdrawl, meltdown, or missed assignment is a signal—not a moral failure. The work of parents is not to punish the message but decode it.

The most logical place to start when behavior goes sideways is to consider health. Physical, emotional, and mental. If a pet or child is unwell, underfed, overtired, or suffering from an illness or disorder, learning and connection are nearly impossible.

Think of the hangry teen at the end of the school day. Are they truly bad or are they overwhelmed, confused, hungry and reacting to events that unfolded earlier in the day?

Is the cat who peed outside the litter box acting out or trying to say something hurts?

In Isabelle’s case, the answer was hidden pain. She had massive bladder stones that required surgery for removal. Once healed, she played like a puppy again.

Snickers had an infected gum and canine tooth. After the tooth extraction, he transformed into an affectionate and playful feline.

Anna and Mia were diagnosed with ADHD and anxiety. With the right strategies and support, their grades rebounded, relationships repaired, and joy with friends and family returned.

None of them were bad.
They were unwell—and unheard, at the start.

Sometimes the most compassionate thing we can do is pause before we judge, look beneath the behavior, and ask what’s really going on. Because when we treat the cause instead of condemning the symptom, lives—human and animal alike—begin to open back up.

TENDER PAWS & TRANSFORMATION

Author Wendy Lyons Sunshine delivers simply beautiful dog parenting wisdom in a tidy, six-letter acronym H.E.A.R.T.S. Listen to our conversation during a recent MOM!!! Moments session as she describes each letter and how together they can transform your relationship with your pet. Wendy is the author of two people parenting books and a dog parenting book. Tender Paws: How Science-Based Parenting Can Transform Our Relationship with Dogs leans on the strategies from her first two books to help her connect with a struggling puppy.

A NEW WAY TO PAY FOR VET CARE

I’m sold on this new crowd-sourcing platform Furlanthropy. It is a non-profit organization that provides a free listing for people seeking help to pay for veterinary and pet care needs. As a non-profit, they can take many types of donations such as cash, gifts of stock, annuities, retirement funds, employer matching funds… Site visitors can donate to a specific fund or the general fund designed to help when a lister doesn’t meet their goal. Donations are paid directly to the need. (Listen to founder Adam Spencer talk about Furlanthropy with podcast host and SubStacker Anke Herrmann on her show Soul Touched by Dogs.)

MARCH IS PET POISON PREVENTION MONTH

How prepared are you to save your pet’s life? Best-selling author, pet expert, and top podcaster Arden Moore offers an online pet first aid and CPR course for pet parents to address choking, bleeding, bites, poisonings, and more. I’m signed up. Are you?

”I struggled through my teen and young adult years. Dogs changed my life. I’m passing this onto my mom to read. I’m sure she’ll relate.” - from a Mom Loves the Dogs More reader.

There are many ways to buy your copy of Mom Loves the Dogs More.

1. Through your favorite retailer (Amazon, Barnes & Noble…)

2. Through my favorite online retailer supporting independent bookstores bookshop.org

3. Become a paid subscriber to Like People, Like Pets. You’ll get chapters delivered to your inbox in biweekly installments along with bonus material like afterthoughts and behind the scenes images.

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Can you guess the most common response I hear when I tell people I foster cats and dogs?

“I could never foster. I could never give them up.”

That sentence has followed me for more than 16 years.

And it’s led me to a question I’ve been quietly trying to answer since the beginning: Why can’t you give them up?

Most people answer quickly: “I’d get too attached.” When I hear that, I want to ask one more why.

Because what I’ve learned—through years of fostering, conversations with other fosters, and plenty of hard goodbyes—is that “I’d get too attached” is rarely the real reason.

The resistance to fostering runs much deeper - at a time we desparately need fosters.

It’s not just about loving an animal and letting them go. It’s about grief, fear, anxiety, and the very human ways we’ve been taught to avoid emotional pain.

Fostering isn’t the single most important strategy to ease overcrowding and high euthanasia rates in shelters, but it plays a big role. Moving an animal from a shelter to a foster home opens up space for the next animal in need. Fostering reduces overcrowding and the need for euthanasia.

PLEASE COMPLETE THIS ANONYMOUS SHORT SURVEY. The answers collected will help guide the development of strategies to recruit and retain pet fosters by diving deeper into the emotional barriers that keep people from fostering. Sharing this with family and friends will help me pack a spreadsheet with responses. Thank you for responding and sharing!

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GOT PETS? THIS IS ONE RECORDING YOU NEED TO WATCH

I’d never given much thought about legal counsel related to caring for pets. I’d never had an issue. Then I was introduced to of Boston Dog Lawyers. After that moment, my mind expanded with new knowledge about the harm that can come to my pets or be caused by my pets and the legal wrangling that can ensue. A little bit of knowledge now can go a long way to preventing problems AND heartache later. Watch the first episode of my monthly MOM Moments sessions. Listen. Learn. Act.

MOM WAS IN THE DOG HOUSE

Oh what fun we had at Dog House Books in Lake City, MN during the community Cocoa Crawl. I was joined by and for an author signing event. We chatted about writing. We shared publishing stories. We pitched each other’s books to the hordes in the reading room, including face-painted kids, pet parents with dogs in bubble carriers and fleece pouches, and Sammy the Snowman. Shiloh was my special guest. She only barked once for treats. Begging for them was another story.

HOW CAN THIS BE THE FACE OF A DIFFICULT DOG?

Poet-the-pocket-dog may have been tiny, but his resistance to house training and lack of interest in everyone except my youngest daughter was epic. He was so difficult to foster, I could not wait to find him a home. So why did we adopt him? Chapter 2: Poet from Mom Loves the Dogs More: A Memoir of Family Rescue tells all. You can purchase a copy here or become a paid subscriber of Like People, Like Pets. Twice a month, subscribers will receive a new chapter, complete with behind the scenes photos and afterthoughts. Not a paid subscriber? Click here:

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I bet you know some one who loves pets. Make my day brighter. Share this post.

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Before you go, did you complete the survey? If not, I truly need your help to help shelter cats and dogs. The survey is anonymous and shouldn’t take more than a few minutes.

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