A week ago, I still had four foster dogs under my roof.
That’s not so odd (for me) except that on Friday I leave for a ten-day whirlwind tour of 16 rescues, shelters, and pounds in Tennessee, Mississippi, and the tail of Missouri as part of Who Will Let the Dogs Out (an initiative of Operation Paws for Homes).
Leaving foster dogs at the house for my busy husband and my even-busier son to care for in my absence isn’t really an option. Which meant Continue reading Doing the Impossible Requires Rose-Colored Glasses (or I Believe in Adoption Magic)
I’m a person who likes a plan. I’m not naturally inclined to waste time or wander. (Obviously, the dogs have much to teach me.)
With Gala, alas, I have no plan. The simple plan was always that we would foster her and she would get adopted. That plan, to date, is not panning out.
I’ve spent more hours running Gala’s situation through my head and heart than any dog to date. But then again Gala’s been with us much longer than any other dog. 10 months.
And Gala, like any other dog, is an individual—made up of good and bad, like all of us.
Even Frankie, who Nick and Ian are both convinced has me wrapped around his little dew claw, has a few faults. He tends to eat first, evaluate later, which I’m convinced will lead us on numerous runs to the Doggie ER in the years ahead. And occasionally, but not often, he does not come immediately when called, but he’s still a puppy, so this is only a temporary fault. (The boys also say I make excuses for Frankie.)
Most of us fixate on faults instead of redeeming features. I don’t know how to reorient myself, much less the world, to see the good before the bad. After all, the bad is what makes headlines and click-bait; it makes plots more riveting and characters more interesting. Perhaps, life wouldn’t be half as interesting if Continue reading Look For the Good