Bye Eggy

So, the last of the Wookies was adopted today. He got BIG, didn't he? He started out small enough to fit in my hand and he was almost bigger than Fergus when he left.

Whenever one of the puppies I've fostered or even when the adults leave with their new families, just about every single adopter says to me in some form or another, "I just don't know how you do this, how can you let them go?" And I usually just shrug it off with a non-answer and wait til I'm in the car driving away to either cackle with glee (in some cases) or wipe away a tear or two. The real answer, the one that no one ever wants me to tell them is that it's easy because I know there's going to be another one taking its place if not the very next day then very soon after. Truth is, I don't save every dog that needs help, but I save as many as I can and if I kept all the dogs that I wanted to keep, I wouldn't be able to keep doing that. So, I send them off to you people with a bag of their favorite chewies and the blankie that they've been sleeping on and lots of well wishes, but then I get ready for the next one because there is ALWAYS a next one.

But this time, it's a little different because I'm not going to be fostering anymore. Not for a very very long time at least--we've got the nugget to plan and prepare for and the four dogs I wasn't able to resist adopting are plenty enough for us now. So, after Eggy left, I realized I am actually down to my LAST FOSTER DOG. Guys, I only have five dogs at my house right now. Do you have any idea how long it's been since there've been that few? I'm actually drawing blank. I don't remember. That's how long. And I gotta say, even though my departure from fostering is for very good reasons, it's a little hard for me not to see the next little face. It's a new era over here, and I know it's going to bring a lot of happiness, but a little part of me mourns the passing of the old era. The one where I could balance 6 dog bowls on one arm and two on the other. Where you learn the hard lesson about leaving prescription fish oil supplements where the dogs can reach them because surely they're not going to eat them (oh yes, they will, by the way, all 90 pills and no, it does not do good things to their bowels). And you discover exactly how many of you can fit on a queen-sized bed (2 humans and five dogs, six if you don't mind spooning). It's been a lot of hard work, and not just on my part, but Sam's as well. He's put up with a lot more than most people would and I would daresay even enjoyed himself a time or two. Even though I'm a little sad and he's not (AT ALL, not even a little eensy bit--dancing in the streets, I'd say), I can honestly tell you we're both happy to be almost done. Someday I'll have more foster stories for you guys. Maybe not soon, but someday. So say bye to Eggy. Only ONE more to go...