I Only Went to Foster One. Famous Last Words. — Tails from the Homestead
FOSTER DOGS ✦ SMALL DOGS ✦ HOMESTEAD LIFE
I Only Went to Foster One. Famous Last Words.
A five-pound chihuahua, a heartbroken Chiweenie, and the howl that sealed the deal.
Fostering a chihuahua was supposed to be simple — one small dog, temporarily, with a plan. I had a system. I had boundaries. I had a Chiweenie named Boomer who was absolutely going to be fine with this.
Here’s what nobody tells you about fostering a chihuahua: you think you’re rescuing them. You have no idea they’re about to completely reorganize your household.
And once a chihuahua picks you? They do not leave your side. I mean that literally. Everywhere I go, Olive goes. The kitchen. The living room. The backyard. The bathroom. There is no such thing as alone time anymore, and honestly? I don’t even mind.
Reader, Boomer was not fine with this.
No sponsorships here — just a dog mom on a small Kansas homestead sharing what actually happened when we brought home dog number three.
How Fostering a Chihuahua Actually Goes
The story behind Olive and her siblings is the kind that sticks with you. Six little chihuahuas arrived at the Cowley County Humane Society after their owner fell off a roof. While he recovered, his son did his best — but eventually brought all six to the shelter. He didn’t know their ages. He didn’t know their names. He just knew he couldn’t care for them anymore.
They’d been there about a month when we came in.
I wanted to foster all four of the girls. I really did. But most of them were too timid, too scared, too shut down after weeks in a kennel — understandably so. When we brought Boomer and Ollie in to do meet-and-greets, three of the sisters wanted nothing to do with them.
And then there was this one little white girl.
She walked right up. Passed the meet-and-greet like she’d been waiting for us. The shelter had been calling her Olive — and even though I thought the name was a little funny for a pure white chihuahua, she answered to it. So Olive it was.
1
🐾 The Ride Home (And the Moment Everything Changed)
Boomer loved her on the ride home. We had Olive tucked into a little cat carrier — she’s that small — and he sat right next to it the entire trip, sniffing at her through the door. Sweet. Calm. Totally fine.
The minute we walked through our front door, he lost his mind.
For two to three days, Boomer barked every time he saw her. She’d shake. He’d bark. She’d shake more. He refused to come into the bedroom if she was in there — and since I work from the bed in the afternoons with my laptop, that meant I suddenly had a very dramatic, very betrayed Chiweenie exile situation on my hands.
There was a moment on day two where he finally caved and cuddled up next to me — then looked over, realized she was in the room, moved exactly two feet away, turned his back on me, and went to sleep facing the wall.
Boomer is nothing if not theatrical.
🐾 If you’re introducing a new dog to a resident dog: Give your existing dog extra one-on-one time during the first week. Boomer came around much faster once he realized he wasn’t being replaced — just… joined.
2
🏳️ The Turning Point (aka Boomer Loses the War)
By day three or four, we had a tentative peace: Olive on one side of the bed, Boomer on the other, both pretending the other didn’t exist. Progress.
Then one afternoon I took Boomer and Ollie for a walk without Olive. She’s only five pounds, it’s hard to manage three leashes, and I just didn’t have enough hands that day.
My husband Mike said she stood at the door and howled.
A tiny, high-pitched, absolutely pitiful chihuahua howl. Because I didn’t take her.
That was kind of it for my heart. And apparently it was kind of it for Boomer too — because now? He sits on my legs in the afternoon. She curls up right next to him. He still barks at her occasionally, just to maintain appearances. But the war is officially over. He lost.
3
😂 Life with Three Dogs (and Not Enough Shoulders)
Here’s what nobody tells you about adding a third small dog: you only have two shoulders, and every single one of them wants to be on one.
Ollie has always been my parrot. He rides on my shoulder, follows me room to room, and considers himself my permanent accessory. Olive took one look at that arrangement and decided she also lives on my shoulder now. Boomer, to his credit, is more of a lap dog — but he’s watching the shoulder situation with great suspicion.
Olive is also a climber and an escape artist. She scaled the baby gate. She climbed out of Boomer’s pen. She figured out the kennel situation in about twenty minutes. For a dog who spent a month in a shelter, she is remarkably confident about going wherever she wants to go.
She dances when she sees the Ollie fresh food container. Full-on, spinning-in-circles happy dance. For a dog who has trouble eating kibble — we noticed she’s missing a tooth or two — she has extremely strong feelings about mealtime.
💡 On the name situation: Yes, we have an Ollie and an Olive. Yes, this causes constant confusion. Yes, I am fully aware of what I’ve done.
★
🌟 The Best Part
She’s a Little Dog and I’m a Little Boy
My five-year-old grandson Adrian walked Olive on the leash for the first time last week. He looked up at me very seriously and announced:
“She’s a little dog and I’m a little boy. She’s my dog.”
So. That’s settled.
🐾 Pro tip: If you want a child to immediately bond with a new foster dog, hand them the leash. Works every time.
About Those Siblings Still Waiting
One of Olive’s sisters has already been adopted, and I’m so glad. But there are still siblings at the Cowley County Humane Society who need homes. They may be shy at first. They’ve been through a lot. But they have so much love to give once they feel safe.
If you’d like to support the shelter directly, they have an Amazon Wish List where you can send supplies to help dogs just like Olive while they’re waiting for their families.
→ View the Shelter’s Amazon Wish List
Related: What I Feed My Small Dogs — Why We Switched to Fresh Food
Will We Keep Her?
We’re officially fostering for one month before we can adopt. She’s been here less than a week, and she already howls when I leave without her, steals shoulder space from a Pomeranian, has a five-year-old convinced she’s his personal dog, and has completely dismantled a Chiweenie’s carefully constructed emotional walls.
I think we already know how this ends.
Welcome home, Olive. Even if you don’t quite fit the name. 🐾
Have you ever fostered a dog? Drop a comment below — I’d love to hear your story. And if you’re thinking about adding a tiny dog to your family, stay tuned — my next post covers everything you actually need when you bring home a small breed.
🐾 More from Tails from the Homestead
| Post | What It Covers |
|---|---|
| I Only Went to Foster One (this post) | The foster story — Olive, Boomer’s betrayal arc, and a five-year-old’s claim |
| What I Feed My Small Dogs | Why we switched to fresh food and what changed for Boomer & Ollie |
| Small Dog Paw Protection on Hot Pavement | Boots, wax, cooling gear, and the 7-second pavement test |
| Potty Training a Chiweenie | The full overnight system — pads, pen, food, and backup plans |
| Backyard Chickens Starter Kit | Everything to buy before your chicks come home |