Failed Foster
“Once you have had a wonderful dog,
a life without one, is a life diminished.”
Dean Koontz
“Failure” connotes disgrace or reproach, usually, but not so with “failed foster.” Among animal lovers, the term is a badge of honor. If you are not familiar with the concept, it means a pet foster-parent who has gone from providing temporary care for a visiting animal into deciding to adopt the pet, giving it a permanent home. Former foster parent and temporary animal resident become a forever family. I am happy to say that I am now a member of the “failed foster” club.
Some of my friends thought I would adopt Cheebies, the beautiful Maine Coon cat, who lived here for two months. Although she is a wonderful cat, as were all the kittens who came into my home, I knew that their forever families were out there, somewhere. Cheebies found her perfect mom on Mother’s Day: truly, mutual love at first sight. I felt sad when Cheebies left my house, but happy that she was going to just the right home. My heart told me: now is the time to foster a dog!
I reached out to the animal shelter where I do my volunteer dog-walking and said I was ready to foster. My preference was for an older dog, small, ideally quiet, special needs would be fine. They suggested cute little “Millie.” Her profile page on the shelter website proclaimed: “I’m a 12 year old lady looking for love.” All of six pounds, she had been found wandering Miami’s mean streets, dirty and in pain. Finally safe at the no-kill shelter, the vets addressed her many physical problems: ear and bladder infection; teeth so rotten that almost all had to be extracted from her infected gums; removal of two bladder stones as well as a mammary gland cyst. How she managed to survive as a homeless dog defies imagination. Yet, despite all that, “Millie” was perky and gentle and trusting.
“Millie” is a nice name, but the very first thing I said to her was, “Hey, Sugar, do you want to go for a walk?” In the South where my family is from, “Sugar” is an endearment. You call someone “Sugar” to show affection. If you want to express sympathy for a friend’s problem, you can murmur, “Poor Sugar.” The word can also mean a kiss. Mama Mary, my grandmother, used to say to me, “Come over here and give me some sugar!” Best pronounced “Shu – gah”; two long, slow syllables, please.
Sweet little Sugar came to live with me and, after a month, I adopted her. We’re a family! What kind of dog is Sugar? Although her web profile guessed that she is a Bichon, a friend more accurately described her as a toy poodle combined with a wet mop. She dances for joy at mealtimes. She greets me by spinning in a celebratory circle when I return home from an errand. Together we have lots of fun. We enjoy walking. Whenever we walk, if she sees someone passing by, she stops and stares as if to say, “Are you my friend?” At our favorite park, she has a little fan club; when they see her, they shout from a socially safe distance, “Hi, Sugar!” This little dog is just plain adorable. Although she has some lingering health problems, we are treating them holistically. Every day she bounces a little higher when she walks and her curly white coat beams a little brighter.
Oh, and Sugar has been hinting that I should write a children’s picture book about her. She is quite inspiring! We will let you know . . .
