When a foster dog is adopted I go through this insane flurry of emotions. Firstly, I'm dance-around-the-house-with-the-puppy-in-my-arms thrilled. All of my foster dogs have had heinous pasts of abuse and neglect. Knowing that they are officially retiring into the good life, that they'll have love, comfort and respect for the rest of their lives, that there will always be enough food, it makes me cry with relief. And dance a little too.
But, ensuring this future for them, also means gracefully bowing out. And when you've shared so much with them, including watching their transformation into delightful canine citizens, it can be so hard. And of course you worry about them, no matter how great of a home they're going to.
When they go, you miss them and their antics.
When they go, you miss them and their antics.
And, if you're me, you cry.
But, soon enough, another needy dog, with her own sordid past is looking to you for guidance, love and assurance; You're busy with a new set of training obstacles and you always have the wonderful updates from the adoptive families to look forward to.
Someone once told me that the best and worst part of fostering is letting your dog go to their adoptive family. Dropping Angie off with her amazing new family was so hard and so wonderful. But, knowing her wiggly-butt is safe for the rest of her life means I can start rescuing someone else.
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