My youngest son and I have been volunteering for a dog rescue organization with the idea that someday we'll adopt a dog ourselves. For the last month and a half, I've assisted at adoption fairs, loving the time I spend with the animals, and being envious of the smiling families who got to bring home a new furry family member.
I was elated with the possibility of us fostering a dog over the Thanksgiving break. The dog in question was one which my son had absolutely fallen in love with. We figured the vacation week would be a good trial for us. If it worked out, maybe we could keep her?
Well, she was adopted before we had a chance to try her out in our family, but I agreed to take a different dog.
This new dog is a sweet soul who was clearly mistreated before coming into rescue.
He loves everyone in our neighborhood except my husband. He loves the mailman. He adores my sons. He is thankful for the man next door who gives him plenty of affectionate scratches. He thought the solar panel delivery salesman was a fine chap, even though I wished he would have helped me get rid of him. (Darn persistent salespeople!) He was happy with my father on Thanksgiving, and got along swell with a potential adopter (who unfortunately decided it wasn't a strong enough match, even though his girlfriend adored the dog.)
But he hates my husband.
The dog loves me. He whines if I go to the bathroom, or go outside quickly to get the mail. He cuddles with me at night, and sleeps at my feet when I'm at the computer. I can see why people can't live without their dogs. I can see how a dog can bring love into a home.
Yet, I can also see how a dog can completely turn a household upside-down.
This past week has been emotionally trying. It breaks my heart to see how frightened the dog is of my husband, even though my husband has been patient, calm, and affectionate to the dog. I hate that my particular household is not equipped to deal with this dog's particular needs.
I wanted to do good.
I know that taking this dog into my home for the past week has been something. The dog has had comfort and snuggles with me. I'd like to think that I've made a difference for him. And yet, because he is so attached to me, I hate to give him up.
I hope he becomes attached to someone else pretty quickly. I wish for him to find an amazing adopter that will give him the love he deserves.
But until he finds that "fur-ever" home, I'm crushed.