Excuse me, but is there a big old sign on my back screaming in all caps, "KICK ME!!"?
Mrs. Miller and myself brought Opal home this afternoon. Opal is a rescue hound from the Humane Society of Wichita County, and what she lacks in grace, she more than compensates for in subtle seduction. This gal, young as she is, knows how to win friends.
Her ungainlyness stems from her, well, stems! She's pretty much all legs and too-big feet, so she's still a growing girl. She is mostly hound with a black and brown blend coat that would do any bloodhound proud. Still, her pedigree has to read "mixed blood". Little to nothing is known about her former family.
This decision to foster a dog was not taken lightly. Anyone who has ever lived with and lost a friend knows parting is much more than sweet sorrow. It hurts like hell.
Annie and I have talked about it for a few months at least. She, of course, was ready to try it long before I was. Separation anxiety aside, our household supported two elderly humans, four cocky cats, a lonesome cockatiel and one adolescent boglen terrier. I had some concerns about, shall we say, logistics?
Hey! I got an idea!! Let's throw a strange animal into the mix and see how many feeding, watering, peeing, pooping, sleeping, ball chasing, cat baiting routines we can upset!!!
And it's not like you introduce the outsider into the pack and let her figure things out for herself. This is NOT YOUR PET! She is a guest, if you will, a sojourner in transit from Wichita Falls to Whoknowswhere, NY. She'll be a fleeting foster member of our pack for three weeks.
Three weeks. Then she's gone. Damn Dog!
So why do it? All kidding aside, for a moment. Why would any sane person volunteer to have their heart slammed full between a rock and a hard place?
The late Joe Brown once said, "I can't do a damn thing about hunger, poverty, or war or any of the big problems like that. I can help this one dog here, though, which should be good enough for both of us."
Mrs. Miller and myself brought Opal home this afternoon. Opal is a rescue hound from the Humane Society of Wichita County, and what she lacks in grace, she more than compensates for in subtle seduction. This gal, young as she is, knows how to win friends.
Her ungainlyness stems from her, well, stems! She's pretty much all legs and too-big feet, so she's still a growing girl. She is mostly hound with a black and brown blend coat that would do any bloodhound proud. Still, her pedigree has to read "mixed blood". Little to nothing is known about her former family.
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| Opal Hound is New York bound! |
Annie and I have talked about it for a few months at least. She, of course, was ready to try it long before I was. Separation anxiety aside, our household supported two elderly humans, four cocky cats, a lonesome cockatiel and one adolescent boglen terrier. I had some concerns about, shall we say, logistics?
Hey! I got an idea!! Let's throw a strange animal into the mix and see how many feeding, watering, peeing, pooping, sleeping, ball chasing, cat baiting routines we can upset!!!
And it's not like you introduce the outsider into the pack and let her figure things out for herself. This is NOT YOUR PET! She is a guest, if you will, a sojourner in transit from Wichita Falls to Whoknowswhere, NY. She'll be a fleeting foster member of our pack for three weeks.
Three weeks. Then she's gone. Damn Dog!
So why do it? All kidding aside, for a moment. Why would any sane person volunteer to have their heart slammed full between a rock and a hard place?
The late Joe Brown once said, "I can't do a damn thing about hunger, poverty, or war or any of the big problems like that. I can help this one dog here, though, which should be good enough for both of us."
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