First, Taquito. A month after his knee surgery, the vet declared him ready for adoption, and so back to the shelter he went. It broke my heart a little. So when two weeks passed and no one had taken the little man home for good, we decided to bring him back for another stint at Camp Oona and Jessica.
He was ecstatic. He also had giardia, it seemed. We were up for emergency potty excursions all night the first night he was home. I left him in the crate Monday while I was at work; Oona came home to a poo-covered chihuahua mix. Tuesday, after several embarassing incidents at Oona's office, we decided to send him back to the shelter until they figured out what exactly was wrong and had him on meds.
Amazingly, that very day, someone came in expressly to see Taquito. A match was made, and our little refried bean found his forever home. Not a peep since. We love you, T.
Our next adventure in fostering came in the form of Hector a full Chihuahua, also from Los Angeles. He was tiny and snuggly and followed me everywhere. He liked to burrow down in the covers near my feet. He thought peeing on the carpet was totally OK, no big deal. Our mission was to teach him that it's OK to give up a toy or food to a human without growling, because chances are he'd get it right back -- plus a treat!
Hector returned to the shelter after about a month of work at Camp O&J, and was adopted a week or so later. No news is good news, in both cases. I hope his human doesn't mind that he likes to sit in her lap and "edit" documents in progress by walking all over the keyboard.
We have learned several things from these two animals. One: I am a sucker for little dogs with issues. Two: O. would prefer not to live with puntables that can't keep up with the real dogs. I'll have to get my fix at the shelter, and our next foster will have to be a big dog.
Pooka and Olli have appreciated being the only dogs in the house again, without a little semi-dog underfoot stealing the toys and guarding the humans. Since I quit my job, I've been spending more time at home freelancing and doing chemistry homework, which I think Pooks has appreciated, even though I'm remarkably boring from a canine perspective.
Of note: After many years, Pooka's favorite toy, "squeaky," is on his last legs. He no longer squeaks. He has no tail. One ear. Three legs. Matted, mottled, and smelly. I finally purchased a replacement. Photos say it all:
No comments:
Post a Comment