I have great respect for people who foster/rescue dogs. It can be a handful and require some patience, but I find they always return the effort to you 10x. My recently departed cat, Cobweb, was discovered by my niece and nephew. My sister had them call me immediately. I asked what her name was and my sister said, "She Who Is Not Staying In The Family, Unless Sonya Takes Her." My other cat, Frankie, was a rescue we got at an event at PetCo. I don't really know his history and he was still a kitten. My papillon, Ruby, is also a rescue. She was returned to the breeder and the breeder called me. We had been thinking about a puppy, but puppies are hard and I wasn't sure I was ready. We'd been talking on the phone about her breeding schedule. She called and said that she had a dog that had been sold as a show dog and had been returned because they broke the very end of her tail. You can't really see it, but you can feel a 90-degree bend at the tip of her tail. This made her ineligible to be a show dog, so she was worthless to them and they gave her back. She spent the next several months in the kennel at the breeders. They intended to breed her, but she had difficulty in the kennel and got bullied by the other dogs. They couldn't sell her because she was a year old by then and everyone else wanted a puppy. I don't have a lot of details about her life other than that. I do know that she was terrified of men with beards and especially men with baseball hats. We spent a lot of the first year with her, sitting in front of our local coffee shop, waiting for bearded men with hats to come by, so I could have them give her a cookie. She still would prefer to hide just behind my ankles when strangers are about, but she will go see anyone if I tell her to "say hi", even if it's only for a half-second. It's all a work in progress.