I discovered that fostering sad little rescue dogs was a great way of getting a dog fix for our family without the permanent pain and responsibility that comes with taking care of them long term. Not to mention everyone thinks we’re doing this super nice thing by providing a loving home for these animals and I’ll do anything if it means Jesus will high five me in heaven.
Originally I thought I wanted a dog, but after round one with Cecil in the summer of ’08 I found that we were not in the right place to adopt one ourselves.
A year later we were ready for round two and brought home sweet Aries and fostered him until the perfect forever home was found.
I found out about Harry’s rescue group from a local newscast. The woman running the organization saves “death row dogs”…basically dogs that are next in line to be euthanized. Harry came from a group of dogs that were rescued from the California wild fires this summer and is the best dog ever.
I can’t believe what a difference it has been having a small dog in the house as compared to a big Greyhound…even though the Greyhounds were laid back.
Harry is a dream. Such a quiet little, gentle, snuggly soul. He follows me everywhere, but does not get in my way. He adores me. I take him to pick up kids from preschool and it’s been so fun to have a little buddy tagging along with me. He’s perfect with the kids. He doesn’t bark. He noiselessly sleeps in his crate every night. I mean really, he’s. perfect.
I begged Pat to let us keep him, but since the cost of rescuing him was so high for the organization they had to charge 550 dollars for him. We went back and forth regarding the price and talked about what we could cut back on to afford him. Then Harry had a couple accidents one day and we decided that we couldn’t take on a dog that needed to be potty trained.
And then he went a week without any accidents at all. I started waffling again. Could we adopt him? The kids still talked about fostering more dogs. They love meeting new animals and nobody is attached to Harry like I am. We would not be able to foster a dog AND adopt a dog. I felt like any decision to keep Harry would have been selfish on my part. Perhaps he’s the perfect dog at an imperfect time and given more time we might be in a better place.
So on Saturday I brought him to Petco for adoption day. All the foster parents bring the dogs in, they get caged, and potential adopters get to walk around and take a peak.
I handed Harry over and frowned when I saw them stick him in the wire cages next to all those other yappy dogs. She told me to come back for him at 5pm unless I get a call saying he’d been adopted.
“You mean….he could get adopted and we’d never see him again?”
My voice cracked. The lady said she could call and if we wanted to come in to meet any potential adopters we’d be welcome to.
And then I did the unpredictable. I mean…not even I knew I was capable of such feelings for a dog…I started to CRY!
I quickly ushered myself out of the store so the woman wouldn’t think I was a freak and I reminded myself over and over why we were doing this.
Pat was floored.
Tears?? You are CRYING!?! For HARRY??
He part laughed at me and part kind of wanted to tell me to just go in there and get the damn dog. I was strong though. I knew the chances of someone waltzing in, falling in love with Harry, and dropping 550 for him were slim. So I went to my scheduled baby shower, had a good time with my friends, and then headed back to the pet store to pick Harry up.
On that drive I made a decision. I decided to adopt Harry. Here I am worrying and crying about a perfect dog, the choice is clear…Harry and I were meant for each other.
I rushed to the store…it felt like a movie…where the boyfriend and girlfriend break up and she leaves for the airport and he realizes he just really screwed up and hails a taxi, “TAXI!!!! Please!! Get me to the airport!!!” He hurries to catch the girl to tell her he loves her and beg her to stay before she leaves his life forever!!!