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The Trouble With Fosters….

….is they don’t stay Fosters Forever.

I received a voicemail on Tuesday informing me they found a ‘forever home’ for Travis. Since that moment, I’ve alternated between resignation, mourning, and Kimmie’s plot that I basically refuse to give him up. He’s been living here for four and a half months and somewhere along the way I went from “I have a greyhound, and I’m fostering another one too” to “I have two greyhounds, Folly and Travis.” Major mistake of Foster Parenting but again – the furball has been here for four and a half months! I’ve watched him go from this scared skittish shy boy to a happy, secure hound with a penchant for my favorite reading/writing chair. When he arrived, he’d duck his head when anyone tried to pet him and now he snuggles. He’s turned into a beautiful, playful pet (one who will dislocate your shoulder upon spying a squirrel, however…).

So it’s been fairly horrible for me, all weepy and defeated, listening to Kimmie chirp, “Fuck those people, keep him for yourself.” I even dodged a return call to the guy trying to arrange transportation to his new family because the idea of ‘handing him over’ actually made me want to vomit. I couldn’t bear the thought of putting a leash on him, leading him to the car and driving him to some halfway point and relinquishing him to a stranger, all the while he doesn’t comprehend what the hell is happening to him. It felt abhorrent.

I received an email today from Nancy, offering to pick him up on Saturday and drive him herself. To add to the commotion, she practically begged me to take one of three hounds newly displaced because of divorce. Yes, more lost four-legged kids, more hard luck cases, more furry projects to heal.

To most of the world, I may appear to be one tough bitch (and admittedly, I am a great majority of the time) but my hounds are where I can channel my affection and love without any fear of being rejected. Their regard truly is unconditional.

So I’ll let Travis go, regardless of how my heart is broken, and in exchange I’ll welcome in another gentle wounded soul. Hopefully this time I won’t fall in love.

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