Goodest

Most dog joint supplements are made for a 40 pound dog. Then people hand them to a Great Dane and wonder why nothing changes.

Big dogs carry more weight on their joints every single day, on a frame that grew too fast. Vets say start supporting those joints early, around the time they stop growing, not after they're already stiff getting off the floor.

The Big Damn Dog makes it two ways, tablets and a gravy topper, and we feed our crew the gravy. It's the easiest way to get it into a dog this size. Beef, beef liver, pumpkin, dosed for a big body, and they think it's just dinner.

We're picky about who we partner with. It has to be a brand that actually knows our breed and gives back to rescue. Big Damn Dog does both. They were started by a couple who adopted their own Great Dane and couldn't find a thing built for dogs this big, and now they're helping feed ours too. Code GOODEST gets you 15% off, and every new subscription sends 20% back to the rescue.

Keep your big dog moving. Feed ours while you do it.

Comment GRAVY and I'll send you the link. 🩵

Gracie was the girl who started it all.

Our very first foster Dane. The one I’ve called “the one who got away” more times than I can count, because she placed so perfectly with Vanessa and Chris that I barely had time to get attached before she was home.

I ran into her today at training with Colby. Almost two years later. She walked right up to me and she remembered Rolex.

That’s the thing nobody tells you about fostering. You don’t lose them. They just move into a life you helped build for them.

There are so many Gracies out there right now, sitting in shelters, waiting for someone to give them a few weeks and a soft place to land. Not a forever commitment. Just a bridge.

Could you be that for one of them?

Link in bio to foster with Goodest. We cover everything: vet care, food, supplies, and more support than you’ll probably think you need.

Happy National Great Dane Day.

Forever Friday, Vegas edition.

Neo went home first. Sweet, a little unsure, still figuring out the whole "being a dog" thing. So a week later, his people did the obvious thing. They went back and adopted his teacher.

Dior, now Lola, knows exactly how to dog. How to claim the couch. How to demand the good snacks. How to walk into a room like she owns the lease. Neo, now Bao, has been taking notes.

Two Danes, one apartment, zero notes left untaken. He had the heart. She had the curriculum.

Both good Danes. Both home. We just get to watch the lesson plan unfold from here.

The ad said free.

The condition: whoever takes her has to remove her eye.

She's eleven months old. Her owner couldn't afford the surgery and didn't know why it was needed. No records, no explanation. So I called the vet myself. The notes said "black mass." That's the entire diagnosis. No biopsy, no referral, no second opinion. Just take the eye out.

We are not removing an eye on an 11-month-old Great Dane based on two words in a chart. She sees a board-certified ophthalmologist Monday morning, and we'll make decisions when we actually know what we're dealing with.

Until then, she's home with us, learning couch privileges and watching the World Cup. The Portugal jersey was non-negotiable in this house.

Her name is Fifa.

The specialist visit and whatever comes after it are on us now. 💙

Help us try to save her eye!
Zelle:
PayPal: GOODEST / [email protected]

Who’s with me?

Luna is four years old and 130 pounds of merle. She lives in Santa Barbara right now with Cameron, a yard, and a pack of dog friends. She has somehow taken up gardening.

She came to us as an owner surrender. A family situation changed and the new place wasn't going to work for a Dane. So her owner made the call before things got harder.

What we know about her: potty trained. Quiet at home. Aggressively committed to whichever couch she has claimed. Pulls on the leash like every walk is the best thing that has ever happened to her.

She does well with other dogs. She does well at home. She doesn't need a project. She needs someone with a yard, a couch, and the patience for 130 pounds of enthusiasm at the front door.

Could that someone be you? Apply at goodestdogs.org.

Delilah and Winnie are home tonight.

Not our home. A foster’s home, on a couch, with toys, doing the thing puppies are supposed to do when nobody is fighting for their life. Both girls cleared treatment this week. Both girls ate today. Both girls played.

A week ago I wasn’t sure I’d be writing this post.

There were three of them when they came out of Chula Vista.

The third sister died in transport, before we ever got her into care. I want to name that here because she existed, and because the two girls who made it had a sister who didn’t. That sits next to the good news, not behind it.

Today is day one of two weeks of quarantine. Parvo doesn’t clear the building when the dog clears the IV. The girls stay isolated, the foster cleans like a hospital, and we wait. Two weeks before they meet another dog. Two weeks before I exhale.

To the people who Venmo’d in five and ten and a hundred dollars while I was still in the parking lot. To the people who sent prayer emojis at 2am when I posted that Winnie wasn’t eating. To the foster who said yes to a parvo quarantine on 24 hours’ notice, knowing exactly what that meant. You kept me upright this week. I’m not going to forget it.

We’re not out of the woods. But tonight there’s a couch, and two puppies on it, and that’s farther than I let myself imagine three days ago.

Follow along. Two weeks to go.

Meet Tigger & Biscuit

Yesterday at 9:27am, a DM came in from a woman in Devore named Lola. She’d been following the page for a few days. Two young Danes, an altered male and his brother, had been hiding at the local school. She and her husband coaxed them home. Her own dog jumped through a window screen trying to get to them.

She knew what taking them to Devore shelter meant.

We got on the phone. By 5:30pm she and her husband were in my driveway with both boys.

Neither had a chip. Tigger was riddled with ticks. I bathed them both, then sat with Tigger and pulled at least 200 off him. We microchipped, vaccinated, dewormed, and flea-treated both boys. Biscuit has a little blood in his stool. Otherwise they look healthy. Two years old at most. Completely glued to each other.

I tried to bring them inside after dinner. They wouldn’t step foot through the door. They had clearly never been in a house before. So I put them in the warmest diamond flannel pajamas I had, made them a spot outside, and left the back door open in case they changed their minds.

They didn’t.

This morning it took an hour. They’re both sound asleep on my office floor right now.

Meet Biscuit and Tigger.

They have a lot ahead, starting with figuring out what’s going on with Biscuit’s gut. Every dollar goes directly to them.
Zelle:
PayPal: GOODEST / [email protected] 💙