Lickety Split

Superspeed post this morning as I have to skip out the door to work early for many things to do (most of which are not work related)! It been somewhat chaotic around these parts, but finally all good, or at least hopeful, chaos instead of the icky kind that we slogged through earlier this year.

On the dog front, we cant wait to start class up again next week! It feels like its been forever, plus we have the clinic on Saturday, and a trial (which I need to enter today) the following weekend. Pete helped me lug the 2x2s and a tunnel over to the park on Sunday morning and we did some “on the road” work. Forest was great. Diego even got in on the action and Mr. Scaredypants was running the tunnel like a mad man by the end.

I also got to see Pierre aka “Dude” last night at a little dog beach get together. I was really excited to see him, but it was a lot harder than I expected. His new dad does take very, very good care of him. He told me about how he rushed him to the emergency clinic cause he got stung by a bee (I dont think he had an allergic reaction I think he was just worried!), which was probably more than I would have done! But, he’s definitely borderline fat already—apparently the clinic people said he was at a fine weight, but um, no—and he was being pretty naughty, blowing his Dad off when calling him back from barking at old people (that has not changed apparently).

Pierre, Forest and I got separated from the pack, and I was calling them back. I was calling “Dude! Duuude!” and he was blowing me off. I tried “Pierre!” in my shiny happy voice I used to use for him, and he stopped dead in his tracks, looked at me, and came back immediately. It simultaneously made me warm and fuzzy and broke my heart.

While again, I am very thankful for who Pierre ended up with and he will give him a wonderful home, its frustrating that the majority of people dont seem to understand the power of the treat. I had four dogs following me around for little bits of Trader Joes chicken sticks, and I think the human-types all just thought I was the crazy dog lady. I was trying to talk to the roommate of Pierre’s dad about how he could put more weight on his recently-rescued reservation pup (eggs! cottage cheese! canned salmon!) and all he would say is “Oh, she’s picky. And she gets plenty of table scraps.” Ergh.

I am a control freak. I admit it. So I will repeat the mantra that I am thrilled to have helped one dog in his journey to a life long home. Thrilled.

Part of me wonders if maybe fostering isnt for me. But, then again, I think the purpose outweighs the drawbacks… And I have some big ideas for down the road. Until then…

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